


Guiding Light

by massivedrickhead



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Bechloe AU, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Pitch Perfect AU, bechloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 36,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23840527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/massivedrickhead/pseuds/massivedrickhead
Summary: When Beca calls a Samaritans style phone line one night, she's looking for a friend. For someone to listen, and understand.She has no idea that the girl who answers the call, Chloe, needs that just as much.Beca and Chloe need each other, they just haven't met yet.
Relationships: Chloe Beale & Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 384
Kudos: 503





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here we go again! I've been working on this for a long time, and I really hope you all like it. I'm pretty proud of this fic, and out of all of the fics I've written so far, I think this is the one I've worked the hardest on. I've spent a lot of time writing and editing, and I just hope I got everything right.

The alarm woke Chloe Beale up at 9:30 pm. She rolled over with a grunt and searched for her phone in the folds of her blanket, finally finding it under a pillow. She switched it off and dropped back down into bed. Her eyes closed again, refusing to open more than a few millimetres.

"One," she mumbled. "Two. Three. Four. Five." She forced her eyes open and rolled out of bed.

She'd only been asleep for an hour, and it wasn't enough. Not for the first time, she wondered why she was doing this. 

She stepped into her shower yawning, and washed her six-hour shift at the convenience store out of her skin and hair. She kept her eyes closed as she rinsed out the shampoo and rested her head against the cool tiles as the hot water ran down her back. Then she heard her second alarm ringing on her phone, and she turned off the shower.

She dried off and dressed quickly, blow-dried her hair, and tied it up in a messy bun. She didn't bother with make-up.

It was almost 10 pm when she walked into the kitchen, before remembering that she was out of coffee. With a sigh, she grabbed her keys off the bench, planning to stop by the store on her way.

"Damn Red, don't you ever leave here?" Her co-worker Cynthia Rose asked as Chloe made her way to the counter.

"I just missed you too damn much," Chloe said, her voice sounding as tired as she felt. She paid for her coffee and left.

At 10:50 pm, she arrived at her town's Support Line office, where she worked four hour shifts, three nights per week as a volunteer. Her job was to answer phones and to listen to the multitude of unhappy, often suicidal, people who called Support Line every day across the country. 

She made her way through the small office, waving a hand at Ted, the office manager, and sat down at her phone, which was beside her best friend Aubrey. They had met at college and Aubrey had started volunteering here when she began working towards her Master's degree in psychology. This place was the perfect work experience for her. 

Chloe had her own reasons.

She placed her coffee on the desk, put on her headset and switched on her phone. 

Her phone didn't ring for another twenty minutes. She had been passing the time reading a book before hearing the familiar chirp in her ear that let her know a call was waiting. She pushed a button on her headset.

"Hello, you're through to Support Line," she said in a calm but soft voice. 

Her Support Line voice had taken a lot of practice. At school and college she'd been a loud, bubbly person, her voice cheerful and bright. After college, her voice had gotten hard, rough, and cold. And neither of these voices would work for this kind of job. 

Whoever had called didn't say anything, but that wasn't uncommon. Sometimes she had minutes of silence before the person felt comfortable enough to talk. Sometimes they never did. Chloe wasn't allowed to cut them off or rush them, and she didn't want to. She waited, listening to the soft breathing on the other end.

She counted to 30 in her head, then spoke again.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

She heard the rustling of sheets and the sound of someone clearing their throat. She hoped she hadn't answered the phone to someone who… got off on this. It wouldn't be the first time for that either, but it was never pleasant. 

She counted to 30 again.

"How about we start with something easy? What time is it where you are?" Chloe asked. The way the switchboard worked was that Chloe could receive a call from anyone, anywhere in the country. They were all randomly assigned, so even though she was working at the Barden office, she could get calls from anywhere.

The person cleared their throat again. "11:20 pm," a woman's voice said. "Just after."

"Well, how about that? We're in the same time zone," Chloe said, her voice a little more cheerful. "So, why did you decide to call us this evening?"

"Uh," the woman said. "I don’t… I don't really know."

"Would you like to talk about how you're feeling?"

"Not… Not great. Kinda… I don't know… Lost. Lonely," she let out a strained laugh. "Sorry. I feel like I'm just wasting your time. I'm just… I’m having a tough time and I don't have anyone else."

"You don't have to apologise," Chloe said. "And you're not wasting my time. We can talk about anything you want, for as long as you want. I'm not going to push you, or rush you, and I'm not going to judge you. This is a safe space," she said, using one of her favourite phrases. She found it relaxed people if they knew they weren't on a timer.

The woman was quiet again, and Chloe heard the sound of ice clinking off the side of a glass. 

She wondered what the girl was drinking and tapped her finger three times against her desk.

"I just moved back to my hometown," the girl said, her voice a little rougher, as if she'd just swallowed something she didn't like the taste of. The ice and glass rattled again.

"And how do you feel about that?"

"Bad," the girl said. "Terrible. Really fucking terrible." Her voice was looser. "My hometown is bad for me."

"Can I ask why?"

"What's your name?" The girl said, switching topic. 

Chloe wasn't thrown. Most often the people she spoke to steered clear of the actual reason they'd called.

"Chloe," Chloe replied. Sometimes she would give her real name, sometimes a fake name if she was uncomfortable with the way the call was going. "Would you like to tell me yours?"

There was another pause. She heard a splash of liquid hit the glass, and the woman on the phone took another drink.

"Beca," she said. 

"Beca," Chloe repeated. She waited again for Beca to pick up the conversation, taking a sip of coffee. 

When it became clear that Beca wasn't going to carry on talking, Chloe spoke again. "What do you do for a living, Beca?"

Another pause. Another swallow. 

"I don’t… I’m not working right now. That's why I had to move back home. I worked at a record label in L.A. but… now I don't. I wanted to make music. That's all I've ever wanted to do."

"What kind of music?"

"Uh, all kinds really. I like… I used to make songs that were like… mashups of different songs from different genres," Beca said. Her voice was slow and syrupy now. Like Chloe had to pull each word out of her. "I was good… I thought I was good."

"That sounds really interesting Beca," Chloe said, and she meant it. "Are you still making music now?"

"Not really," Beca said. "Not for a while."

"How come?"

"I haven't really… felt it. Since I got home it's like there's a block inside. I can't get anything to come out," Beca said. She let out a puff of air, her breath hitching slightly when she breathed back in. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Of course," Chloe said. "We can talk about whatever you want."

"I can't," her voice broke, and Chloe knew she was trying not to cry, "can you just… talk. Can you just talk to me? Please?"

"Yeah," Chloe said, her voice much softer. "I can do that. So this is actually my second job, kinda. I volunteer here, but I also work at a convenience store. So this guy came into the store today…" And Chloe talked and talked and talked about nothing. Filling a silence with inane small talk was one of Chloe's specialties. Every so often, she drew a laugh out of Beca and Chloe felt a rush of pride each time. 

After what felt like a long time, Chloe finally ran out of steam, and a natural and comfortable silence fell.

Chloe counted to 20.

"How are you feeling, Beca?" She asked.

"Better," Beca said. And she sounded it. "Thank you, Chloe."

"You don't need to thank me," Chloe said. "Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"

"I think I'm good," Beca said. "I'm glad I called."

"I'm glad you did too. We are always here to listen, Beca. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Give us a call, and someone will be there," Chloe said.

"What if I want to speak to you again?" Beca asked, her voice quieter.

"Well, the calls are randomly assigned," Chloe said. "So there isn't really a way of you calling and getting me, unless I happen to be one of the free volunteers when you call, and your call gets directed to me."

"Seems unlikely," Beca said, sounding defeated.

"If you want though," Chloe said, picking up a pen and flicking open her notebook, "I can give you a call back when I'm next working?"

"You can do that?"

"Sure, we can arrange call backs. My next shift is Wednesday, 11 pm until 3 am. Does that work for you?" Chloe asked.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, that would be awesome," Beca said.

"Can you give me your number and your preferred time?" Chloe asked.

Beca gave Chloe her number and asked for a call at around 11 pm.

"Okay, great," Chloe said. "Now, for like legal reasons, I have to tell you that I'm not going to be using your number for personal use. Like this isn't going in my cell phone or anything and no one but me is going to have access to it. Your calls aren't recorded, and we don't have your data stored anywhere. I've just got your phone number and first name, and it's gonna get locked in my top drawer."

Beca laughed. "Seems super secure. But thanks, I'm really glad I'm gonna get to speak to you again, Chloe."

"Me too, Beca," Chloe said. "Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?"

"No, thank you. Um, enjoy the rest of your shift? That's probably a weird thing to say. Obviously you don't enjoy these calls," Beca said, sounding embarrassed.

"Well I've enjoyed this one," Chloe said, another hint of cheerfulness in her voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I love listening to myself tell mundane stories," Chloe said, pleased to hear Beca laughing again.


	2. Chapter 2

Beca woke early the next morning with a hangover so bad that it threatened to ruin her whole week.

A crack in her curtains allowed a ray of sunlight to make its way into her room, shining directly onto her face. When she opened her eyes she winced immediately at the bright light before throwing the blanket over her, groaning at the pain in her head.

She felt her face burn with embarrassment when she remembered last night and her phone call with Chloe. It wasn’t that she regretted calling Support Line, but she hated that feeling of vulnerability. It felt like a weakness.

A churning in her stomach sent her stumbling from her bed into her bathroom, and she was soon throwing up the remainder of last night’s dinner.

She felt the shakes and hot flashes she associated with the worst kind of hangover, and stripped off to take the coldest shower she could handle.

After that, she wrapped herself in a towel, swallowed some aspirin, drew her curtains properly to block out that sliver of light, and crawled back into bed. Her hair was still wet and was soaking into the pillow, but she didn’t care.

She checked her phone and again felt that ripple of embarrassment rise through her. She went into her call history and removed the Support Line number, worried in case someone would see it and recognise it.

Once the aspirin had reduced the pain in her head to a dull ache, she put her phone down, rolled over, pulled the blankets over her head, and fell asleep quickly.

She woke up every few hours or so, but never for very long. Being awake meant dealing with her hangover. It meant dealing with those feelings that had driven her to reach for her phone last night, along with drinking half a bottle of bourbon.

Every time she entertained the notion of getting up, she was hit by the pointlessness of it all. What did she have to get up for? She didn’t have a job. She didn’t have any friends that still lived around here. Her dad and Sheila would be working, not that she would have sought out their company anyway, and she didn’t even have that desire to create music anymore. She knew if she tried, she’d sit frustrated at her computer before giving up anyway.

So she slept, because that was easier.

It was around 5:30pm when someone knocked at her door, waking her with a start.

"Beca? Are you in there?" Her dad asked.

"Yeah," Beca answered, confused and tired. Her voice was rough. She rubbed her eyes, trying to wake herself up.

"Can I come in?"

"Just a sec," Beca said. She turned on her bedside lamp and grabbed a hoodie from the floor and pulled it on. "Okay," she said.

Her dad came in. "Have I just woken you up?"

"No," Beca lied.

"Then why are you still in bed?"

Beca shrugged. "Why not?"

"Have you been outside at all today?" He seemed annoyed.

"No, why?"

"Beca, we had a deal," he said. "I said you could move back home, I didn’t say you could… regress into being a teenager again."

Beca rolled her eyes before she could stop herself.

"There!" He said, pointing at her. "See! You’re twenty-four years old Beca. You shouldn’t be sitting there, rolling your eyes while I nag you." He rubbed his eyes under his glasses, trying not to get too angry. "I know you’re… disappointed that L.A. didn’t work out. No one wants to move back in with their parents at twenty-four. But you’ve been back for almost a month now Bec, and you haven’t done anything."

"What do you want me to do?" Beca asked.

"I don’t know, something. Anything. Get a job or work on your music or just… Just something, Beca. At least wake up at a reasonable time and get dressed. I shouldn’t have to be telling you stuff like this."

He sounded exasperated, and Beca couldn’t say she blamed him.

"What’s the point? Why bother getting up and getting dressed just to sit around doing nothing anyway?"

"So don’t do nothing, do something! Even if you’re just helping around the house or going into town. Staying in bed all day can’t be helping."

Beca nodded and carried on pulling at the loose threads on the cuff of her hoodie, not looking at her dad, worried that she might suddenly burst into tears.

"I know this is hard," he said, his voice softer. "But I need you to try, okay?"

"Okay," she said, still looking down. "Sorry."

"Why don’t we start now. Can you run to the store and grab some milk?" He asked.

"Yeah, okay," Beca said.

Her dad turned to leave but then hesitated. "Have you seen your mom since you’ve been home?"

"No," Beca said.

"Does she know you’re back?"

Beca shrugged.

"You should call her."

He left her to get dressed. She suddenly felt shaken-up, and it took her a few minutes to remember she was supposed to be doing something. Everything seemed to take twice as long as usual as she moved through her room in semi-darkness, pulling socks and underwear out of her drawers, and searching for a hairbrush before giving up and tying it in a ponytail.

She made her way downstairs and was surprised to see daylight. It just added to her tiredness and disorientation.

"Money’s on the counter," her dad called from the other room.

"‘Kay," Beca said, shoving the five dollars into her pocket. "See you soon."

It was colder outside than she’d expected. She hadn’t yet adjusted to the weather in Barden after living in L.A. for the past four years. It was mid-July, but it seemed that no one had told the sun.

She debated going back for a coat but decided against it and quickened her pace. The cold air actually felt good, and the angry buzzing in her head seemed to quieten.

A bell chimed as she pulled open the door to the store, and she was hit by a blast of warm air.

She grabbed the milk from the refrigerator and headed to the counter.

"Is that everything?"

Beca felt her stomach drop as her eyes shot to the girl behind the counter.

Her eyes fell on the girl’s name tag, and her insides froze.

_Chloe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to comment, it really means so much to me, and I hope you carry on doing that <3 I know this chapter is a bit slower, but I hope you all stick with it. Chapters will be posted probably every other day, so you shouldn't have to wait too long for the drama.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you okay?"

Beca swallowed hard and nodded because she didn’t trust herself to talk.

_Holy fuck_ she thought, her heart pounding. _Holy fuck, holy fuck._

"Really? Because you look like you’ve seen a ghost," the girl behind the counter, Chloe, said.

"Uh-huh," Beca said, swallowing again. "S-sorry, you just look like someone I know."

"Okay," Chloe said. "Can I get you anything else?"

Beca glanced to the shelf of liquor bottles behind Chloe. She badly wanted a drink. All thoughts of her hangover had been pushed from her mind.

"C-can I get a b-bottle of Jim Beam t-too please?" Beca asked. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, trying to force herself to calm down and to stop stammering.

"Of course, I just need to see some I.D. first," Chloe said, tapping her finger three times against the counter.

"Oh, sure." Beca pulled out her wallet and handed over her I.D., her hands shaking badly. Her stomach then dropped further when she realised that Chloe might recognise her name. But then her name was Rebeca on her I.D., and she’d introduced herself as Beca on the phone, so maybe she’d be okay.

Once Chloe was satisfied that Beca was over 21, she turned and grabbed a bottle of Jim Beam, and put it into the bag along with the milk.

"Sorry about that, store policy," Chloe said, handing the I.D. back.

"N-no problem. Happens all the time," Beca said. She paid and took the bag, her hands still shaking.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" Chloe asked, confused at the way this girl had seemed perfectly calm upon entering the store, but had suddenly changed as soon as she heard her voice.

"Yeah I’m sure," Beca said, relieved that Chloe hadn’t realised who she was. "Sorry."

Chloe looked like she wanted to say more, but another customer approached the counter.

"Okay then," Chloe said, smiling. "Have a great day."

"Thanks, you too," Beca said, before hurrying out of the store.

Her heart was racing bad by the time she got back home, and her hands shook as she opened the front door.

"That you back, Becs?" Her dad called from the living room.

"Ah-ha," Beca said. She put the milk in the fridge before hurrying upstairs to stash her bourbon. She knew she was legally allowed to drink when she wanted, and that she didn’t have to hide her alcohol like when she was a teenager. Still, she didn’t think her dad would be thrilled about her spending the last of her savings on booze. Before she hid the bottle under her bed, she opened it and took a generous sip.

It burned her throat slightly, but it did seem to stop the shaking in her hands.

"Are you gonna come down for dinner?" Her dad called up the stairs.

"Yeah," Beca replied. "Coming now."

She pushed aside a box under her bed, hid the bottle behind it, and moved the box to cover it. She quickly swilled mouthwash around her mouth before looking in the mirror.

She looked rough.

Her hair was tangled and messily tied up. Strands of it had fallen out of the ponytail and hung either side of her face, weirdly curled because she’d slept with it wet. Her eyes were tired. Bloodshot with bags under them.

She couldn’t find it in her to care though. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cared about how she looked.

She thought back to Chloe, and her stomach clenched.

_What are the odds?_ She thought. _What are the fucking odds that I’d end up on the phone to someone from my own fucking town?_

She reasoned that there was no reason that Chloe would have remembered her. How many calls would she have had that night? And their conversation hadn’t been anything remarkable or memorable, at least not to Chloe. Beca hadn’t been a suicidal person who needed talking down, or someone confessing to a horrible crime.

No. Of course Chloe wouldn’t remember her. She felt her breathing calm down, and her heart slow.

She left her room and headed downstairs for dinner.

While her dad and Sheila talked, Beca thought about Chloe.

What would she tell her when Chloe called her tomorrow night?

* * *

Chloe finished her shift at the store at 8 pm and headed home. She didn’t have a shift at Support Line tonight, so she was looking forward to a relaxing night and a lazy morning before work the next day.

Five days a week, Chloe worked from 2 pm until 8 pm at the store. Three nights a week, Chloe worked 11 pm until 3 am at Support Line. Needless to say, she was tired.

She got home and closed the door behind her with a sigh of contentment. She leaned against it, revelling in the feeling that she wouldn’t have to open it again until tomorrow afternoon.

As she ran a bath, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She checked the caller I.D. and then let it go to voicemail.

She sank into the bathtub and closed her eyes as the hot water covered her.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a text.

**Chicago** : **Hey, what are you doing tonight? x**

Chloe dried her hands with a towel before tapping out her reply.

**Chloe: Not you :)**

**Chicago: Come on baby, don’t be like that. I said I was sorry. x**

**Chloe: And I said I forgave you, but we’re still done.**

**Chicago: Let me come over. I bet I can change your mind. x**

**Chloe: Goodnight, Chicago. Don’t make me block you.**

She put her phone back on the side and let her head slip beneath the water.

She could hear the muffled sound of her phone buzzing, but she ignored it.

She counted.

She got to 36 before bolting upright, gasping for breath. Water splashed over the side of the tub and hit the floor.

When she caught her breath, she lay back down, needing a distraction.

Desperate to keep her mind occupied, she found herself thinking about the girl she’d served that afternoon and wondered again why she had seemed so nervous all of a sudden.

She hadn’t recognised her, and Chloe was normally good with faces. There was maybe something familiar about her voice, but Chloe definitely hadn’t seen her in the store before.

Chloe had lived in Barden since she moved at 18 for college. She was 27 now, and had worked at the store for almost eight years, and Barden was a pretty small town, so she was familiar with the faces of the locals. The town was mostly made up of people who had lived there their whole lives, and college students.

She’d assumed this Rebeca girl was a student when she came in, but her I.D. said she was 24, and plus all the students were usually back at home at this time of the year. She did look younger than 24, though.

Maybe her I.D. was a fake, and that’s why this girl was so nervous?

Chloe figured that must be it, and felt annoyed at herself for being tricked. She was usually good at spotting fakes.

She finished her bath and didn’t think any more about the girl.

She was dead tired, and even though it was barely past 9pm, she crawled into bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I want to thank everyone who's taken the time to comment, it really means everything to me, and I really hope you continue to do so.
> 
> A few people seemed to think that I was bringing Beca and Chloe together already, but I'm afraid I'm not. They're gonna spend some time apart so we can get to know this version of them, it's definitely a bit of a slow burn. Please stick with me though. I'm also sorry this chapter is a little short.


	4. Chapter 4

Beca was pacing her room, quietly freaking out.

It was 10:55pm, and Chloe would be calling her in roughly five minutes.

She didn’t know what she was going to say to her.

She poured another glass of bourbon, her third of the night, and stashed the bottle away, resolving not to let the drinking get out of hand tonight. She just needed to settle her nerves.

She drank and felt better.

She wanted to tell Chloe the truth, but didn’t want to freak her out. She didn’t want her to think that she’d tracked her down or something, but keeping quiet about it felt worse.

She considered just ignoring the call, but the thought of that made her heart sink. She wanted to speak to her again, and if she ignored this call, she had a feeling Chloe wouldn’t call back.

At 11:03 pm, the phone rang.

"Hello?" Beca answered.

"Hi, is that Beca?" Chloe said. Beca couldn’t help but notice that her voice was a little softer and calmer than it had been at the store, but she was in no doubt that it was the same person.

"Yeah," Beca replied.

"Hi Beca, it’s Chloe from Support Line. Remember, we scheduled a call back?"

"Yeah, I remember," Beca said. "Um, h-how are you?"

"I’m fine, thanks Beca," Chloe said, with a small laugh. "But that’s really the question I should be asking you."

"Oh, right. Yeah," Beca said, wishing she sounded more articulate. "I’m fine too."

"Yeah? Are you feeling better than when we spoke on Monday?"

Beca cleared her throat. "Kinda," she said.

"Kinda?"

"I mean… I dunno… I still don’t feel, like, good. But I guess I feel better," Beca said.

"Well, that’s an improvement at least," Chloe said. "So what would you like to talk about tonight?"

"I don’t really know." Beca let out a small huff of frustration and took another drink. "I’m sorry, I feel like I’m wasting your time."

"You aren’t wasting my time, this is what I’m here for Beca," Chloe said.

"But other people might need help more."

"And there are other people to answer their calls. No call is going to go unanswered, everyone who calls will have someone to talk to. And I’m here to talk to you, Beca."

It was the sincerity and softness in Chloe’s voice that pushed Beca to say what she said next.

"I need to tell you something," Beca said, almost blurting it out.

"Okay, what’s that?"

"This… this is gonna sound weird, okay? This is gonna make me sound like a freak," Beca said, taking another drink to steady her nerves.

On the other end of the phone, Chloe braced herself for this confession. Over the years, people had confessed many things to her, the worst kind of things, and Chloe had had to remain non-judgmental and professional on the phone, no matter what they’d said.

"Just take your time," Chloe said.

"I think… Yesterday, I think you served me in a convenience store," Beca said, closing her eyes as she braced herself for Chloe’s reaction.

"You… what?" Chloe said, her professionalism slipping for the first time.

"Yeah… I live in Barden, and I bought milk and bourbon at a store yesterday, and I’m almost certain you served me. You’ve got red hair and blue eyes, right?"

Chloe didn’t answer right away, her heart was racing as she tried to process this new information. This had never happened before.

"Please don’t be upset," Beca said. "I promise I didn’t do it deliberately. I just didn’t want to keep it from you."

"You’re the girl who came in and freaked out," Chloe said, realisation dawning on her.

"Uh, yeah, I guess that was me. I heard your voice and saw your name tag and it just… it scared me. I was worried you’d remember."

"Jesus, this is really fucking weird," Chloe said. "I don’t really know what to do here."

"Me neither," Beca said. "If this is too much, I can just hang up. We can forget all about this."

She sounded disappointed.

"Is that what you want?" Chloe asked.

"Not really," Beca admitted. "But I realise boundaries have kinda been crossed."

"If you want to talk, we can still talk," Chloe said. "Whatever else happens, you’re still entitled to help from Support Line. If this is too weird for you, I can transfer you to someone else. But I’m happy to talk if you are."

"And if I need to use your store again? Or if we bump into each other in town?"

"I’m not gonna lie, it’s a weird situation," Chloe said. "But I think as long as we’re both…" she searched for the right word, "cool, about this. It’ll be okay. Don’t turn into a stalker and we’ll be fine."

Beca laughed. "Okay," she said. "I promise, no stalking." She took another drink and felt better than she had in weeks.

"Then I think we’ll be okay," Chloe said, and Beca really believed her. "So, what’s on your mind, Beca?"

"I don’t even know anymore," Beca said, laughing again. "I’ve been stressed about this since yesterday."

"Why don’t you tell me about your day?"

So Beca did.

They talked for over an hour, and Beca felt better with each minute.

By the end, they were both laughing and swapping stories, and it felt like she was talking to a friend.

When a comfortable silence fell, Chloe asked if there was anything else Beca wanted to talk about, and Beca suddenly remembered that this was Chloe’s job.

She felt like an idiot.

"Oh," Beca said, "no, nothing specific."

"How are you feeling?" Chloe asked.

"Fine," Beca said. "Sorry if I’ve kept you for too long."

"We can talk as long as you need to or want to, Beca," Chloe said. "If you still need someone at the end of my shift, I can transfer you."

"No, I’m fine," Beca said.

"Would you like to arrange another call back?" Chloe asked.

Beca wanted to say yes, but she didn’t have a reason for it. She’d enjoyed talking to Chloe, but felt like that wasn’t enough to warrant a call back. Chloe was there to do a job. To help people who needed it.

"No, that’s okay," Beca said, feeling suddenly sad that this would likely be the last time they’d speak. She knew where Chloe worked obviously, but that felt like crossing a line. "But thank you, Chloe. You’ve really helped. You’re really good to talk to."

"Thank you, Beca," Chloe said.

There was a pause.

"Uh, goodnight then," Beca said.

"Goodnight," Chloe replied. There was another pause. "We aren’t allowed to end the call."

"Oh," Beca said. "Sorry."

Chloe laughed, and the sound made Beca smile. "Whenever you’re ready, you can hang up. No rush."

"Right," Beca said. She hesitated, finishing the last of her bourbon. "Bye."

"Goodbye."

Beca ended the call.

* * *

Back in the office, Chloe pushed the hold button on her phone to prevent any calls getting directed to her. They were allowed to do this when they needed to. It gave them some breathing space if they’d had an especially difficult call.

"That was a long one," Aubrey said next to her, taking the opportunity to have a small break. She worked longer hours at Support Line than Chloe did, so was encouraged to take proper breaks.

"Yeah," Chloe said, taking her headset off and rolling her shoulders back.

"Coffee?"

Chloe nodded, and the two made their way into the small break room.

"There seemed to be a lot of laughing though, so it didn’t sound like a heavy call," Aubrey said as they waited for the kettle to boil.

"It wasn’t," Chloe said.

"Then why do you look so bummed out about it?"

Chloe laughed and shook her head. "I’m not. She was just nice to talk to."

Aubrey raised her eyebrows, but didn’t comment.

She decided not to tell Aubrey about the whole Beca knowing where she worked thing. At least not yet. Aubrey was the type to freak out, and she didn’t want to give her a reason to.

They made their coffees and returned to their phones.

"Is she the call back you had?"

"Yeah, that was her. She didn’t want to arrange another one though," Chloe said.

"Maybe you helped her enough that she doesn’t need one," Aubrey said.

"Or maybe I didn’t help her enough, and she’d rather speak to someone else," Chloe replied, putting her headset back on and pressing the hold button on her phone again.

"Don’t do that," Aubrey said. "Don’t start falling down that hole again. You know damn well that you’re good at this."

"Sorry, you’re right," Chloe said, the tiredness hitting her fully as it often did around this time of night. Aubrey squeezed her arm, and Chloe gave her a small smile.

She heard the chirp in her ear, and pressed the button on her headset to answer the call.

"Hello, you’re through to Support Line," Chloe said, turning her attention to the call, and away from the familiar feeling of hopelessness that was opening up in the pit of her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to every one who took the time to comment and for sticking with me through this slow burn.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Suicide is mentioned in conversation, and blood is shown via flashback.

_One. Two. Three. Four. Five._

Chloe counted in her head as her hands tingled and shook and her chest tightened.

_Six. Seven. Eight._

She tried to focus on her breathing, the way she had been taught to do, but her vision kept swimming. 

_Nine. Ten._

She looked down at her hands, only they weren't her hands anymore. Or more accurately, they were her hands but from four years ago. 

And they were covered in blood, but it wasn't her blood.

She could hear music, but she knew no music was playing. 

_God, not this song. Not this song._

She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images stayed, and the music stayed, and her breathing got faster.

She started crying.

It felt like a long time later, but it was probably on a few minutes, when Chloe opened her eyes again. Her heart was still racing, and her breathing still quick and erratic, but at least the blood was gone, and the song was fading away.

With shaking hands, she reached for her phone and called Aubrey, putting her on speakerphone.

"Aubrey Posen," her best friend's voice said on the other end.

Chloe couldn't respond, but the sound of her breathing carried through the phone.

"Chloe? Are you at home? Knock twice on something loud if you're at home," Aubrey said. Chloe heard the jingling of keys followed by a door closing. 

Chloe knocked twice against the hard wood floor of her kitchen, barely feeling the sting in her knuckles.

"I'm on my way," Aubrey said, and Chloe heard a car door close and the engine start. "You're okay, Chlo'."

Ten minutes later, Aubrey opened Chloe's door with her spare key, and found her sitting in the kitchen, her back pressed up against the cabinets.

Her hands were fisted in her hair, pulling tightly as she sobbed and tried to calm her breathing.

"Hey," Aubrey said softly, rushing over. She covered Chloe's hands with her own, and pushed down gently, stopping her from pulling. "Look at me." Aubrey took Chloe's hands and held them against her own chest. "Look at me, Chloe." Chloe did. "Just copy me okay? Just like last time."

Aubrey took slow, deep breaths, and soon Chloe began to copy her.

"You're doing great," Aubrey said, giving her hands a squeeze. "When you're ready, tell me five things you can see."

Chloe swallowed and closed her eyes, taking a few more deep breaths. She opened them again.

"You," she said, her voice shaking slightly. She looked around. "The dining table. The chairs at the dining table. The dishtowel I dropped earlier." She swallowed again, and looked up. "That weird stain on the ceiling."

Aubrey gave a small laugh. "Four things you can touch?"

"The floor," Chloe said, less shaky this time. "The cabinets. You. My sweater."

"And what about three things you can hear?"

"You," Chloe said again, laughing slightly this time. "The clock on the wall." She closed her eyes and really listened. "The refrigerator humming."

"Awesome. Two things you can smell?"

"Coffee and, uh, your perfume I guess?"

"Something you can taste?"

"Mint," Chloe said. "Like, uh, spearmint gum."

"Great job, Chlo'. How do you feel?"

"Better," Chloe said. Her heart rate felt like it was returning to normal, and her breathing had evened out. Tears were still stinging her eyes, but the sense of dread seemed to be drifting away. "Thank you. Thank you for coming. I tried to stop it myself but none of my methods were working."

"I'm glad you called me. You know you can call me anytime, right?" Aubrey stood up and helped Chloe to her feet. Chloe nodded and gave Aubrey a weak smile. "Go chill out on the sofa, I'll make some tea. I'll also give Ted a call and let him know you won't be volunteering tonight."

Chloe reached out and squeezed Aubrey's hand. "Thank you "˜Bree."

* * *

Across town, Beca was watching TV in the living room. 

She had forced herself out of bed at 2 pm, and completed the list of chores her dad had left her. She felt like she was back in high school, loading the dishwasher and vacuuming the living room for her allowance.

Once she was done, she'd dropped onto the sofa and turned the TV to the most mindless program she could find.

She was looking at the TV, but she wasn't taking any of it in. She knew she was watching a game show, but she couldn't have told you the name of it, the rules, the contestant's names, or even the host who she assumed was somebody famous.

Her mind was running. Running too fast for her to keep up.

She had a jingle from a commercial stuck in her head. The same thirty-second tune replaying over and over.

She used to be able to create music in her head. She used to be able to take any song stuck there and remix it and rework it and combine it with something else. 

But that was before. Now it was like her own brain was taunting her. Her mind was bouncing back and forward like a pinball machine from jingle to jingle. From crappy song to crappy song, occasionally throwing in a TV catchphrase or theme tune, before returning to that same annoying jingle.

She switched the TV off, but her mind didn't stop. 

She wanted to scream. 

Instead she just returned to her bedroom and looked for more distractions.

It was hard being back in this town. Back in this house. Back in this room. 

It was hard not to think of when she'd been a teenager here. 

She was angry, always quietly angry. And sharp. Like if you handled her in the wrong way, you'd cut yourself. She wasn't popular, but she knew she had talent. And she'd made a promise to herself that as soon as high school was over, she'd leave this town and never look back.

She sat with her back against the door and cried.

She felt like she could see her teenage self standing and watching her in disgust. She could hear her calling her pathetic. A failure. 

"Stop," Beca whispered through her tears, pressing her forehead into her knees. "I want it to stop."

* * *

Aubrey and Chloe were lounging on Chloe's sofa. A reality TV show was playing quietly in the background, but neither of them were really watching.

"Are you still taking your meds?" Aubrey asked quietly, glancing sideways at her friend.

"Yeah," Chloe replied. 

"Good."

They fell quiet again, and Chloe's phone buzzed on the coffee table. Aubrey watched as she looked at who was calling, before putting it back and letting it go to voicemail.

"When do you next meet with Stacie?" Aubrey asked.

"Uh, next week I think?" Chloe replied.

"And you're still working well together?"

"Yeah, she's a great therapist 'Bree," Chloe said. "You know she is, you're the one who recommended her. What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what's with all the questions? You're not that good at being subtle you know," Chloe said. 

"I'm just… I'm worried about you," Aubrey said. "This was your first bad panic attack in a while, and you've withdrawn into yourself a bit lately. I just wanted to make sure you're looking after yourself, you know, taking your meds, going to therapy."

"I'm fine," Chloe said. "I'm not amazing. I don't feel all… Sunshines and rainbows. College Chloe isn't making a re-appearance anytime soon. I'm still… I'm not cured. But I'm fine."

"And do you promise to tell me if things get bad again?" Aubrey said, holding out her pinky.

"Promise," Chloe replied, linking her pinky with Aubrey's. 

* * *

"Beca! Dinner's ready!"

Beca woke with a start, and briefly forgot where she was. She had crawled into bed after she finished crying, and had pulled her blankets over her head until she felt safe and calm and then had fallen asleep accidentally.

She went into her bathroom and washed her face several times, trying to wake up and wash away any remnants of the crying she'd done.

She went downstairs and started helping her dad set the table.

"Thanks for doing those chores," he said.

"No problem," Beca replied, her voice a little hoarse.

"What's wrong?" He asked, looking her over. 

"Nothing?" Beca said. "Why?"

"You just look… I dunno. Never mind," he said with a sigh. 

They sat down at the table and Sheila brought the food in.

"What did you get up to today, Beca?" She asked. 

"Not much," Beca answered. She knew Sheila was trying, and she felt bad that she didn't have more to say to her. She'd never been good at small talk, and her relationship with Sheila had always been a bit strained. "How was your day?"

"Oh you know, just your typical day inputting numbers into spreadsheets. Highly exciting," she said, and Beca forced a smile.

She felt relieved when her dad started talking to Sheila. She could feel herself taking a backseat and eventually checking out of the conversation altogether. She ate her food and let her mind wander.

She was surprised when it landed on Chloe.

It had been a couple of weeks since they'd last spoke on the phone, and although they'd seen each other once or twice in the store where she worked, she hadn't thought too much about Chloe.

She tended to pop into Beca's mind when she was feeling particularly low, and Beca always got the urge to call her. If she'd known she would be guaranteed to speak to Chloe again, she might have called Support Line. Instead, she drank and watched dumb YouTube videos until her mind was calm enough to sleep.

Beca wished she could talk to her now. Not about anything serious, just for a chat. Chloe was good at talking. And better at listening. Beca didn't feel like their conversations had been strained or awkward, like so many of her other conversations were. It just felt right. Natural. Like they'd been friends for years.

She felt like she needed a friend.

"Beca?"

"Yeah?" Beca asked, still a little zoned out.

"Do you want any ice cream?"

"No thanks."

She pulled her eyes away from the random spot on the table cloth that she'd been staring at, and looked up at her dad. Both him and Sheila were looking at her.

"What?" She asked.

Her dad and Sheila glanced at each other, and her dad shook his head.

"You're acting weird," he said. 

"If you say so," she said. "I'm gonna turn in."

She headed back to her room and got back into bed, feeling herself relax. She felt like she'd been holding herself together over dinner, and was now finally allowed to let go. 

She pulled up a video on YouTube, and fell asleep sober for the first time in weeks.

* * *

"Do you know what triggered it? Your panic attack I mean?" Aubrey asked, sitting up and stretching. 

"It was stupid," Chloe said, rubbing the back of her neck. ‘At Last' came on the radio in the car. I never… I never listen to the radio, but I just wanted a distraction, and of course it's that fucking song."

"Shit Chloe, I'm sorry." She put her arm around Chloe's shoulders and squeezed her into a side hug.

"Who fucking kills themselves to that song anyway?" Chloe asked.

"Maybe she thought 'Exit Music' by Radiohead was too cliche?" Aubrey asked, and she felt Chloe laugh.

"She had a whole list of Radiohead songs to choose from," Chloe said. "She just chose her wedding song as a final fuck you to my dad. Except my dad didn't fucking find her did he?" Chloe said before she dissolved into tears. 

"No," Aubrey said softly, holding her tighter. "No he didn't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are actually going to start happening from this point haha. Thank you everyone for sticking with me and for commenting and please keep doing so 💜


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Anxiety and depression are talked about in this chapter.

"So, you had a panic attack last week?" Stacie, Chloe's therapist, asked once Chloe had settled herself in a chair.

"Yeah," Chloe replied. "It was probably the worst one I've had in a while. But I know what triggered it."

"'At Last' again?"

Chloe nodded, hearing the opening of the song begin to play in her mind. She closed her eyes briefly and told herself the song wasn't playing. It faded away.

"That's still a major trigger for you?"

"It would appear so," Chloe said. "I tried all the breathing exercises you taught me, but they didn't work this time. I had to get Aubrey to come over."

Stacie tapped her pen lightly against her notebook. "The problem is, I think this song might always be a trigger for you. We just need to work on how you process it. How you respond to it." Chloe nodded. "How have you been feeling otherwise? Panic attack aside, how has the anxiety been?"

"Um, I dunno… manageable? It's still there, but it's mostly in the background. It tends to be worse in the evenings," Chloe said. "The, uh, the depression is worse than the anxiety right now."

Stacie nodded and made a note. "How bad?"

"It's… It's not… It's been worse. But I can feel it coming back. Every day it gets a bit harder to get up and go to work. It's like it's opening up something inside me. Like it wants to swallow me." Chloe wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

"Any urges to drink again?" Stacie asked. Chloe shook her head. "Any thoughts of hurting yourself?"

"No," Chloe said. "It's not that bad. Not as bad as it was. But I don't want it to get worse. I don't want to be that way again."

"Okay," Stacie said. "We could up the dosage on your meds, but I'm reluctant to try that right now. I want you to focus on those coping strategies we talked about. Try and get out of the house more for things that aren't work or volunteering. And if you need to cut back on the number of hours you volunteer, then you should."

"I can't do that," Chloe said. "Working at Support Line is like the only decent thing I'm doing with my life. I actually help people. I make a difference."

"I know that," Stacie said. "But you need to put yourself first."

"Why?" Chloe asked. 

"Because if you keep… Giving yourself to other people, there'll be nothing left to look after you. And when there's nothing left to fight it, the depression will just take you. And you'll end up in the hospital again. Or worse," Stacie said. "Then who will you help?"

Chloe didn't answer, she just shook her head and looked out of the window, blinking back tears.

"Chloe," Stacie said, the seriousness in her voice forced Chloe to look at her. "This thing will kill you. That's what it wants to do."

_Good_. Chloe almost said. _Let it._

But those weren't her thoughts. So instead she swallowed and nodded. She didn't want to give up. She didn't want to die.

"I know. I'm sorry, Stace. It's just… It's fucking exhausting sometimes," Chloe said.

"I know it is," Stacie said, her voice softer. "But it'll get easier."

"It's been four years. When does it get easier?"

"I don't know, but it will. You just have to keep fighting," Stacie said. She glanced down at her watch. "I want to see you sooner than next month, okay? I wanna go back to weekly appointments for the time being. See Jessica on your way out and set up your next appointment. Anything else before we wrap up? What are your plans for tonight?"

"I think I'm gonna have dinner at Aubrey's and then just relax at home," Chloe said. "What about you?"

"I have a date with this guy," Stacie said, sounding less than thrilled. "He's cute but it's like having a conversation with a Snapchat filter. There's just nothing real going on."

Chloe laughed. "He sounds like a real catch."

"I know right?" Stacie said with a laugh. "But, you know, girl's gotta eat." She added with a wink. 

"Well, you know my opinion on this. I think you should just ask Aubrey out already," Chloe said, grinning at the way Stacie blushed. Chloe realised this was the first time she'd seen her embarrassed.

"Well… that's as good a place as any to wrap things up," Stacie said. "Call my office if you need an appointment sooner than next week, and we'll try and fit you in okay?" She reached out and squeezed Chloe's arm. "Look after yourself."

"I will, thanks," Chloe said. "Enjoy your date."

"I'll try." 

* * *

Beca was walking through town, trying to rid herself of the two-day hangover she'd gotten after her last bad night.

She wasn't really paying attention to where she was walking, and accidentally bumped into someone walking their dog.

"Shit, sorry," Beca said, holding her arm to steady the person. "Oh my god, Benji?"

"Beca!" Benji replied, sounding shocked but delighted to see his old friend again. "Holy crap, how are you?"

"Uh, yeah, good. How are you though? You're still in New York, right?" Beca asked. Benji had been one of her only real friends back in high school. She had even lived with him and their friend Jesse in New York for two years before she and Jesse moved to L.A.

She always knew he'd do well for himself and he proved her right, and every bully they'd had wrong.

"Yeah I am," he said. "I'm just home to see my mom." 

He looked well, Beca thought. Fit and healthy and confident. 

"How is she?" Beca asked. "I bet she's bragging to everyone who'll listen that her kid's a Broadway star."

"Yeah, something like that," he said, laughing. He reached up a hand to scratch his eyebrow, and Beca spotted a silver band on his ring finger. "Dude… did you get married?!"

"Oh," he looked at his hand and laughed. "No. Engaged. My boyfriend proposed last week. That's actually why I came to see my mom."

"Dude, that's so awesome," Beca said, feeling genuine happiness for the first time in a long time. "I'm so happy for you." If anyone deserved the perfect life, she thought, it was Benji. "How did your mom take it?"

He shrugged. "You know what she's like."

Beca nodded because she did. Benji's mom and her mom had similar viewpoints on these types of things. 

"It doesn't matter," he said. "I'm done feeling ashamed about shit like this. How about you, anyway? Are you and Jesse still in L.A.?"

"Uh, he is yeah. It didn't really work out for me though so I'm back living with dad for now, until I figure out the next step," she said. She could tell by his expression that he felt sorry for her, and she didn't want that. "But it's whatever. How long are you here for? We should get a drink before you head back to New York."

"I'd love to," Benji said. "But I fly back tomorrow. Another time though, definitely."

"Yeah, totally," Beca said. "I should get going, but it was really great to see you."

"You too Beca," he said. There was a look of concern in his eyes. "I'm sorry that L.A. didn't work out. Keep in touch, yeah?"

"Yeah, you too," Beca said. 

They had an awkward goodbye hug, and then each carried on walking in opposite directions. 

Beca was feeling rattled again, and suddenly just wanted to be at home. 

She turned to head back, but paused because she didn't want Benji to think she was following him.

She sat on a nearby bench and decided to give him a ten-minute head start before she headed back.

She pulled out her phone, and then nearly dropped it as it started vibrating in her hand.

She swallowed, staring at the words now displayed on her phone.

She didn't want to answer.

She _really_ didn't want to answer.

But she knew the longer she put off talking to her, the worse it would be.

So she took a deep breath, and hit accept.

"Hi Mom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support so far. I promise, the girls will be brought together soon. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you continue to comment 😊💜


	7. Chapter 7

"Hi Mom," Beca said, trying to stop the shake in her voice.

"Hello!" Beca's Mom said, enthusiastically. "I didn't think you'd answer."

"What's up?" Beca asked, her other hand clenched in her pocket, gripping her keys as a way to anchor herself.

"I just thought I'd call, since you obviously weren't going to call me," her mom said. "I didn't even know you were back in town. How long have you been back at your father's?"

"Not long," Beca lied. 

"Hmm, well, fancy not giving your own mother a call to let her know you're home," she said, with a huff of indignation.

"Sorry," Beca said. 

"Are you planning on coming to see me at all while you're back?" 

"Yeah, of course," Beca said. "Uh, when are you free? We could go for dinner or something?"

"We don't need to go anywhere, why don't you come here for dinner?"

"Uh, sure," Beca said, her stomach sinking. "When's good for you?"

"How about tonight? Steve is out with the boys and Callie is staying over at a friend’s house," her Mom said.

"Tonight sounds great," Beca said. She really didn't want to spend time with her mom's husband and her step-daughter. 

"Perfect. Come over around six," her mom said.

"Okay, see you then."

She hung up and her head dropped into her hands. She'd been hoping to avoid this for as long as possible, but maybe the sooner she got it out of the way, the better. She knew tonight would end badly, so there was really no point in dragging it out.

She got home with enough time to shower and change and put some make-up on. She found herself drawing her eye-liner thicker and darker than she had for a while, and when she stepped back and looked in the mirror, she felt like she was looking at teenage Beca all over again. 

She dressed in her standard black skinny jeans and a flannel shirt over a black t-shirt. She had debated dressing up a bit more, but she knew her Mom would have an issue with whatever she wore, and she wanted to feel comfortable. She felt like she was going into battle, and she wanted to feel like herself.

"Becs, do you want a ride?" Her dad asked from outside her room. 

"If that's okay?" Beca asked.

"Yeah of course," he said. "But Sheila and I are going out tonight so I won’t be able to pick you up until late. I can give you money for a cab if you want?"

"No, that’s okay," Beca said as she opened her door. He gave her a quick look up and down. "What?" She asked.

"Nothing," he said, smiling and shaking his head. "I just felt like I'd gone back in time for a minute there." He tapped his earlobe. "You aren't gonna put the spike in? Your mom loved that, right?"

"Shut up," she said, grinning and rolling her eyes.

They drove in silence, and they arrived at her mom's house before Beca was ready. She sat in the car, looking at the house through the car passenger window. Her hands absentmindedly running up and down her jeans.

"I don't want to do this, Dad," she said, her voice small and quiet.

She hadn't been in that house in eight years. The house she'd grown up in from birth until she was 16 when she'd left and moved in with her dad and Sheila. 

She felt sick and shaky.

"It's just one meal, and then you're done, okay? You can handle one meal with her, I'm sure," he said.

But Beca didn't know if she could. She knew her dad had dinner reservations to get to though, so she just nodded and stepped out of the car.

* * *

"Chlo', what do you want to drink?" Aubrey called from the kitchen. "I've got lemonade, diet Coke or…" Chloe heard her rummaging in the fridge, "I think there's a can of La Croix in here somewhere… There it is!"

"What flavour?"

"Grapefruit," Aubrey called back. 

"Diet Coke is good thanks," Chloe said. 

A few minutes later and Aubrey had rejoined Chloe on the sofa with their drinks. She could hear Chloe’s phone vibrating. Chloe was pointedly ignoring it.

"Your dad again?" Aubrey asked.

Chloe nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "I’ll call him back later." 

Aubrey knew she wouldn’t, but she didn’t press her. "How was therapy?" She asked, setting a timer on her phone so she could check on dinner. 

"It was alright," Chloe said. "She wants to go back to weekly sessions for a while."

"And you feel okay about that?"

Chloe shrugged. "I guess yeah. I think I probably need it." Chloe didn't want to spend another evening talking about this, so she decided to change topic. "Hey, what do you think of Stacie?"

"What do you mean? She's an excellent therapist and she was top of our class at college-"

"No," Chloe said. "Like, as a person, what do you think about her? As a woman?"

"As a woman?"

Chloe nudged her knee against Aubrey's. "Come on ‘Bree, you aren't blind."

Aubrey blushed. "She's very attractive, is that what you wanted me to say? Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Chloe said, with a grin. "She was just talking about some lame date she had tonight, and I suggested she just ask you out and she had a very similar reaction that you just had. I didn't think Stacie even had the ability to blush."

"Chloe!" Aubrey said, hitting her friend in the arm. "Why would you do that?!"

"Oh my god," Chloe said, laughing. She started listing points on her hand. "One, you're both single. Two, you're both hot. Three, you're both crazy smart. Four, you _clearly_ like each other and have done since _college_. Five-"

"Okay, I get it," Aubrey said, shoving her. "You're such a meddler."

"Trust me, you'll thank me for this," Chloe said, giving Aubrey her best shit-eating grin.

Aubrey couldn't help but smile back. She lived for these moments. These moments when her best friend seemed to come back to her. When she seemed to rise up from under these layers of unhappiness and break through. It gave Aubrey hope that the bubbly Chloe she'd met all those years ago wasn't dead and gone.

"Your timer's going off," Chloe said, breaking the blonde out of her thoughts.

"I'll be two minutes," Aubrey said, silencing her phone and heading to the kitchen.

* * *

"So," Beca's mom said, taking Beca's jacket and hanging it up for her. "How long are you back for?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," Beca said, her stomach twisting as she looked around the place she once called home. 

"Won't your boss in L.A. want you back soon?" She asked, gesturing for Beca to head into the dining room.

Beca looked around the hallway as she walked. Taking in the multitude of family pictures, and noting that she didn't appear in any of them.

"No," Beca said, her eyes falling on a particularly large picture which featured her mom, Steve, and his daughter Callie. Callie was sitting on a chair while her Mom and Steve each had a hand on her shoulders. The word ‘family’ was written in fancy script below. Beca had to fight not to roll her eyes.

"That's a nice one, isn't it?" Her mom said, proudly. "Callie looks so beautiful." Her mom reached out to touch it, lightly. "You know, she is your sister Beca. You really should make an effort and get to know her."

Beca pulled her eyes away from the photo and carried on walking towards the dining room. She didn't want to start an argument so soon into the evening, so she didn't bother pointing out that Callie was her step-sister, and that they had only ever met once and they’d had nothing in common and nothing to talk about.

From what she had gathered from her Facebook, Callie seemed to be a normal, happy, 16-year-old girl. She was the daughter her mom had always wanted. 

_Although_ , Beca thought, _what 16-year-old girl is ever happy?_

"How's your father doing?" Her mom asked when they were sat at the table. She poured them both a glass of wine and then went into the kitchen to bring out dinner. Beca took a big drink but promised herself to not go overboard.

"Good," Beca said. 

"And… the whore?"

Beca winced. "Sheila's fine," she said. 

Her dad had left her mom for Sheila, so Beca couldn't really blame her mom for still being bitter, but it was 18 years ago, and her mom was happily remarried. She figured her mom should be over it.

"Oh _Sheila_ is it? I didn't realise you were so close!" Her mom bristled as she put a plate of food down in front of Beca.

"We're not," Beca said. "But she's not a bad person, Mom."

"She's a homewrecker."

Beca sighed but, again, she didn't want to start an argument, so she just left it.

"How's Steve?" She asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Oh, he's fine," her Mom said, her voice brighting the way it always did when she talked about her _real_ family. "He's out with some work friends tonight, they're celebrating a big sale."

"Good," Beca said. "That's good." She had only a vague idea about what her Mom's husband - she wouldn't call him her step-dad - did, and she didn't feel the need to ask.

There was a lull in conversation while they ate, and Beca wished she was back at home. She took a big drink of wine, and it seemed to settle her nerves slightly. Her mom had kept her glass topped up, so she’d lost track of how much she’d drank.

"So, tell me all about L.A.," her mom said once the plates were cleared.

"It was good but, you know, it's hard to make a living out there," Beca said.

"I thought you had a job?"

"I did," Beca said, trying to skirt around the subject. "It just, uh, it didn't work out. And it's like crazy expensive to live out there without a job so… Here I am."

Her mom shook her head, clearly disappointed. "I told you, you should have gone to college. You should have gotten yourself a degree and a _real_ job."

"Mom," Beca said with a sigh, "don't."

"It was bad enough having to tell people my daughter went off to L.A. to be a… a D.J. or whatever you were. Now I have to tell them you're a _failed_ D.J.?"

"I was a music producer, Mom."

"And now you're nothing. No job, no prospects, no husband," her mom said, shaking her head. 

"Stop it."

"All my friends are always talking about how _proud_ they are of their kids. About how successful they are. If I have to hear once more about Marion Applebaum's boy being a big success on Broadway, I'll scream," her mom said, as if she couldn't hear Beca. "Although, rumour has it, he’s another one of _those_. So I imagine she’ll be much less smug once _that_ gets out-"

"-Mom!-"

"-And Harriott Swanson, talking about her Jesse working on all the big movies. Didn't you used to date that boy? Why couldn't you have stayed in L.A. with him? At least then you might have had some marriage prospects-"

Beca slammed her fist on the table. "Enough!" She said. "You know I never dated Jesse. You _know_ that, Mom. I'm never getting a husband, okay?"

"Oh seriously Beca, you're not still in that phase are you? I thought you'd be over that by now," her mom said.

"Yeah, we're done here," Beca said, shaking her head and standing up. "I'm sorry I'm not the kind of daughter you can brag about to your friends. If it helps you at all, just pretend I don't exist, and use Callie instead. You’re already doing that, so it should be easy for you."

She left the room, grabbed her jacket, and slammed the door shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to all the commenters! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and that you carry on sticking with me 🧡


	8. Chapter 8

Chloe drove home from Aubrey's that night feeling better than she had in weeks. 

She had needed this night off from her own head. Simply eating a meal with her best friend, watching trash TV, and teasing her about her crush had felt like a vacation. 

She was excited to get home and fall asleep feeling good for once.

As she stopped at a traffic light, she spotted something that made her frown.

A girl was walking down the street by herself.

This wouldn't be a concern usually, but she seemed to stumble every so often, and kept bringing up a hand to wipe at her eyes. She was also drinking from a bottle. Chloe couldn't really tell what it was, but the brown glass suggested beer. 

There was something familiar about her.

The girl stepped under a street light, and her face was illuminated.

Was that… It was.

She pulled the car over and rolled down the window.

"Beca?" Chloe called.

The girl froze, and looked around for the source of the voice.

"Over here," Chloe said.

Beca turned and spotted Chloe leaning out of the window.

"Chloe?" Beca said, looking very confused. She took a nervous step towards the car.

"Yeah," Chloe said, smiling. "Um, are you okay?"

"N-no?" Beca said, laughing. Chloe laughed too. Beca was still crying and her mascara and eye-liner had left tracks down her cheeks. She was also, clearly, pretty drunk. 

Chloe lightly tapped her thumb three times on the steering wheel. She didn't really know why she'd pulled over, but she was glad she did. She didn't like the idea of Beca walking alone in this state.

The two had spoken to each other a few times in Chloe's store since their last phone call, and Chloe had the impression that, if given the chance, they could actually be friends. 

"Do you want a ride?" Chloe asked.

"Oh," Beca said. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to," Chloe said. "I can't just let you walk home like this, can I?"

"I'm fine," Beca said.

"Come on," Chloe said. "Let me give you a ride home, or I'm gonna have to just follow you with my car like a stalker."

Beca laughed, but seemed to give in. "Fine," she said. 

"Do me a favour and toss that bottle before you get in?" Chloe added.

Beca finished the last of the beer and tossed the bottle into a nearby trash can. She then made her way to the passenger side and let herself in the car. She shivered slightly and Chloe turned up the heat.

"Seatbelt," Chloe said.

Beca fastened her seatbelt, and Chloe pulled away. Beca didn't speak for a few minutes. Her head was resting on the window as she watched the street lights pass in a blur. 

"I don't know where we're going," Chloe said. 

"Sorry," Beca replied, moving her head off the passenger window and facing the windshield. She gave Chloe her address, and Chloe nodded.

"You're not too far from where I live," Chloe said.

Beca was quiet again, and Chloe could feel the sadness coming off her in waves.

"You wanna talk about it?" Chloe asked, glancing across.

"Just… moms, am I right?" Beca said, her voice a little slurred. Chloe didn't respond, but she clenched the wheel a little tighter, and let slow breath out through her mouth. "Sorry," Beca said again. Chloe glanced across and again and saw Beca was watching her. "Wrong thing to say?"

"Doesn't matter," Chloe said. "What happened?"

"My mom hates me," Beca said. "I agreed to go around for dinner, but it was just an excuse for her to… to guilt trip me and tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I didn't go to college, I lost my job, failed as a music producer, and I don't have a husband." Beca started to laugh. "And I'm super fucking gay. That's the thing she hates the most." 

Chloe slowly brought the car to a stop. 

"She kicked me out at sixteen," Beca said. "I didn't… I didn't realise how fucking toxic she was at the time. I thought… I didn't think she'd be happy, but I didn't think she'd do _that_."

Beca paused and sucked in a breath, trying to slow down. Her thoughts were racing, and she knewshe was starting to ramble.

"I told her I was gay," Beca said, "and she just fucking lost it. She isn't even really religious, but suddenly I was gonna go to hell and she wouldn't let me drag her down with me. She said if I was going to… choose that lifestyle, I wouldn't do it in her house. She called me an embarrassment and a disgrace." Tears were running down Beca's cheeks, but she didn't bother to hide or wipe them. 

"I had to go and live with my dad. Growing up, I'd always seen him as the bad guy, since he was the one who left. But I was wrong." She swallowed and her voice broke as she talked. She didn't know why she was suddenly confessing all of this to Chloe. She didn't even know Chloe. But she couldn't stop. She didn't _want_ to stop. She wanted all of this out of her. "I didn't see her again until I graduated high school. She had her new perfect family by then. Do you know what she said to me, the day I graduated? She said she'd _forgiven_ me." 

And then Beca was crying too hard to carry on talking. Chloe unbuckled her belt and leant across the car, pulling Beca into her arms. 

"It's okay," she said softly. "Shh, it's okay." 

It took a while, but eventually Beca's sobs died down and her breathing evened out.

Beca moved back, and Chloe cupped her face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away her tears.

"Okay?" Chloe asked.

Beca nodded. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be sorry," Chloe said, leaning across to kiss her forehead. "Never be sorry for letting it out." She pulled a pack of tissues out of her bag and handed them to Beca. "I have make-up wipes too," she said. 

"Do I need them?" Beca asked, drying her eyes and blowing her nose.

"It depends on whether or not the Alice Cooper look was what you were going for," Chloe said, pulling out some make-up wipes and handing them over. 

"Naturally, of course it was," Beca said, taking one and removing the smudged eye make-up from her face. "Did I get it all?"

"Almost," Chloe said, pulling out a fresh one. "Close your eyes." Beca did, and Chloe removed the last traces of black from around Beca's eyes. "There you go."

"Thanks," Beca said. "I really am sorry for… all of that. That was kinda embarrassing."

"You must have been bottling that up for a while, huh?" Chloe asked, fastening her seatbelt again and starting the car.

"I guess so, yeah. I haven't ever really talked about it."

"That stuff will kill you, Beca. You can't hold onto it like that. It'll poison you," Chloe said.

"Who do you spill all your trauma to then?" Beca asked.

Chloe laughed. "My therapist. You're gonna have to give me directions from here."

"Bold of you to assume I know how to get anywhere by car," Beca said, pulling up Google Maps on her phone.

"Beca, you live here," Chloe said, laughing.

"I'm gay though, terrible with directions," Beca said, causing Chloe to laugh more.

"Is that a thing? What about being bi then?" 

"Good fashion," Beca said, "but a disaster with anything else."

"Yeah, that's fair," Chloe said. "My fashion is on point."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really looking forward to hitting this part of the fic, and I'm so glad people stuck with me through the slow start. Thank you for all the comments and I hope you carry on doing that 💚


	9. Chapter 9

They pulled up outside Beca’s house, but she hesitated before going in. She could see the living room light was on, meaning her Dad and Sheila would be up. She couldn’t face telling them about her evening.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah," Beca said. "Uh, thank you for this. For everything."

"It was nothing," Chloe said. "I couldn’t have let you walk home in this state. Anything could have happened."

Beca laughed softly. "It’s not nothing," she said, shaking her head. "You don’t even know me, but you helped me anyway. You keep doing that. You keep… helping."

Chloe didn’t really know what to say, so she just watched Beca who turned to look out of the window again, fiddling with the cuffs of her shirt.

"This whole situation is pretty weird, isn’t it?" Beca said with another laugh, finally looking at Chloe.

"It’s definitely out of the ordinary," Chloe said. "But it’s not bad. I’m not sorry that I was the one who answered your call that night, and I’m not sorry you saw me in the store and figured out who I was. I’m not sorry I drove by you tonight, and I’m definitely not sorry I pulled over."

"Do you ever think that certain things happen for a reason?" Beca asked. "Like, people come into each other’s lives at the right time for a reason?"

"Sometimes," Chloe said.

"Do you think… Sorry," Beca cleared her throat, "I’m not good at this. Do you think we could see each other again?" Beca cringed slightly at her own words. The vulnerability in her own voice sounded alien to her, and it made her regret speaking in the first place. She hated sounding like this.

"Sure," Chloe said. "I’d like that."

"Oh," Beca said, surprised. "Okay. Cool."

"Just so you know though, I’m… I’m not the most… stable person right now. Like… mentally, or whatever," Chloe said, trying to force herself to say the words she needed to before agreeing to any kind of friendship. She knew Stacie would want her to say it. She knew she _needed_ to say it. But it made her feel like a dick. "I have a lot of my own… issues. I can’t be like a therapist or anything. I know I work at Support Line, but really our job is just to listen, we aren’t-"

"-Chloe," Beca said, cutting her off with a small smile. "It’s okay, I get it. I’m not asking you to try and fix me. I just… I just wanna be your friend."

"Okay," Chloe said, laughing slightly. "Sorry, I just… My therapist would have killed me if I didn’t say that. And I’m not saying that you can’t tell me stuff or call me if you need help or anything, but just know that I might not always be able to be the person you spoke to when you called Support Line. I’m not always that person."

"Then I’ll try not to treat you like that person," Beca said. "Have your other friends done that?" She added after a small pause.

"Beca, I don’t… Other than my best friend Aubrey, I don’t really have other friends. Not real ones. There’s been… _almost_ friends? Acquaintances, maybe, who, once they figured out I wasn’t who they thought I was, have sort of… distanced themselves. After a while, I just stopped letting people in. I was different when I was younger. I was really… bubbly is the best word I guess. I was always bright and happy and then I… wasn’t. School friends and college friends just kind of drifted away after that. It takes effort to be friends with me and I guess Aubrey is the only one who thought I was worth it." Chloe had been looking out of her window, trying not to let Beca see the tears building in her eyes, but when she felt Beca squeeze her hand she turned to look at her.

"I get it," Beca said. "I guess I haven’t met anyone yet who thought I was worth the effort." Chloe squeezed back, but didn’t let go of Beca’s hand. "You said you were happy and then you weren’t… Did something happen?"

Chloe nodded. "Lots of stuff happened."

She didn’t elaborate, so Beca didn’t push. "I still want to be your friend," she said. "If you want."

"Yeah," Chloe said. "I’d like that. Do you wanna trade numbers?"

"Uh, yeah, that sounds good," Beca said, pulling out her phone. She handed it to Chloe who typed her own number into Beca’s phone before calling herself on it. Beca’s phone then started vibrating in Chloe’s hand.

"Oh," she said, handing it back. "Your dad is calling."

Beca answered. "Hey dad," she said.

"Hey, where are you? I thought you’d be home by now," her dad said.

"Yeah, I’ll be home soon, don’t worry," she said.

"Are you getting a cab or is your mom going to give you a ride?" Her dad asked. "Do you need me to come get you?"

"No," Beca said, feeling the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. She felt a small warm feeling in her stomach and a rush of affection for him. "A friend gave me a ride. I’m outside the house, we were just talking."

"Okay," he said, sounding relieved. "I’ll see you in a minute then?"

"Yeah," Beca said. "See you soon." She ended the call. "Sorry about that," she said to Chloe. "I guess I should go."

"Yeah, I should probably head home too," Chloe said.

"Uh, text me later? Like, just to let me know you got home safe?" Beca asked.

Chloe laughed, but nodded. "Sure," she said.

"Cool," Beca said, laughing too. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight Beca."

It felt like it took a lot of effort to leave Chloe’s car and step into the cold night, but Beca did it. She raised her hand goodbye as she crossed the street, glancing back over her shoulder to Chloe in the car. Chloe waved back, and didn’t drive off until Beca closed her front door behind her.

"Hey Becs," Beca’s dad said, popping his head out of his bedroom as Beca reached the landing.

"Jesus!" She said, jumping. "Give me a heart attack why don’t you?"

"Sorry," he said, laughing. He stepped out of his room and closed the door behind him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Beca said.

"How did it go?"

"Terrible," Beca said. "She might actually be the worst person who ever lived."

"I think Hitler would have something to say about that," her dad said.

"How about the worst person currently alive?" Beca asked.

"Wait for Trump to die first," he said. "What made it so bad?"

"Just the whole me being a terrific failure who also happens to still be gay," Beca said. "Same old stuff."

He pulled a face. "Sorry, Becs. I thought she might have outgrown all that…" He waved a hand in front of him, trying to find the right words.

"Deep-rooted homophobia?" Beca suggested. "No, it’s still very much present."

"I’m sorry," he said again, with a sigh. "Well, you don’t have to see her again if you don’t want to."

"I know," Beca said. She noticed that he hadn’t corrected her when she called herself a terrific failure, but Beca couldn’t blame him. "That’s the great part about being an adult, right? You get to choose who you deal with."

"True," he said. "Unless they’re your kids and then you’re stuck with them."

"Gee thanks," Beca said, with a laugh.

"I’m kidding," he said. "Every parent secretly wants their adult child to come and live with them again."

"I totally believe you," she said, rolling her eyes, but laughing still.

There was a small silence before her dad spoke again.

"You seem happier tonight," he said. "Who was this friend who gave you a ride?"

"Oh, she’s a new friend, I guess. We met pretty recently," Beca said, not willing to give him the full story.

"Ah, I see. A new friend," he said, grinning. "Did you meet her on, what’s it called, tinder.com?"

"Oh my god, no, gross, don’t talk to me about tinder," she said, pulling a face. "I’m going to bed before you say another word."

"You don’t like your old man saying the words tinder.com?"

"Stop!" She groaned. "Why are you saying dot com?"

"Is it not called that?"

"I’m going to bed!"

"Night," he said, laughing. "Don’t stay up all night browsing-"

"-Don’t you dare!-"

"-tinder.com!"

Beca could still hear her dad’s laughter when she closed her bedroom door.

She pulled out her phone and saw she had a text from Chloe. Or, Chloe Beale (the sexy redhead), as she’d saved herself in Beca’s contacts as.

She smiled and pulled the message up.

**Chloe: Made it home safe and sound :) xx**

Beca tapped out a reply and hit send, feeling a wave of butterflies mixed with what felt like genuine happiness.

**Beca: Glad to hear it. Thanks again for everything. You’re a real-life angel xx**

Her dad was right. Not about the tinder thing, but about Beca seeming happier. She _was_ happier. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this. She knew it wouldn’t last. She knew the storm clouds were gathering, and she’d feel that dark hopelessness soon enough. But, for now, she felt happy. She felt _hopeful_. She had made a friend.

A kind, funny, smart, thoughtful friend.

A very… beautiful friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this short chapter, hopefully the upcoming chapters make up for it. Thank you for all the comments so far, please keep doing it haha


	10. Chapter 10

"Why are you smiling so much?" Aubrey asked Chloe, who was currently looking down at her phone, grinning hard. She hit pause on the show they were supposed to be watching. "Oh my god, you aren’t texting Tom again, are you?"

Chloe looked up from her phone. "God no," Chloe said.

"Chicago?" Aubrey asked, sounding, if possible, even more horrified.

"He wishes. Sorry, I’m being rude." She put her phone face down on the coffee table, but couldn’t stop herself from glancing at it when it buzzed.

It was a few days after she had exchanged numbers with Beca, and the two had basically been texting whenever they could. Chloe had found herself thinking _Oh, I should tell Beca about this_ constantly, and, based on the messages she sent, Beca must have been doing the same.

"Who are you texting?" Aubrey asked. She then did a fake gasp and put a hand to her chest. "Do you have _other_ friends?"

Chloe laughed. "Erm… Kinda?"

"Oh wait, for real?" Aubrey asked. "Who?"

Chloe hesitated. She didn’t lie to Aubrey. Not anymore. Not even by omission. Other than Stacie, Aubrey was the one person with whom Chloe was completely, 100% honest.

Still, she wasn’t sure Aubrey would approve of the way she and Beca had met, and she wasn’t sure Beca would be thrilled about her telling Aubrey about it either.

"Chloe," Aubrey said, a hint of warning in her voice. "I can see the wheels turning in your head."

"Okay… Look, it’s tricky. Don’t freak out," Chloe said.

"Chloe Beale, you know me better than anyone. You _know_ I’m going to freak out. Especially after you’ve just told me not to," Aubrey said.

Chloe laughed. "I’m kinda breaking some confidentiality rules here. I need you to promise you won’t tell anyone else," she said.

"Chloe..." Aubrey said, sounding nervous.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

"So… Okay, I had a Support Line call from this girl, and she kinda found me… In real life," Chloe said, biting her lip.

"Chloe!"

"Not on purpose!" Chloe said, laughing at Aubrey’s expression. "She came into the store the day after the call and she recognised my voice."

"So you just gave her your number and now you’re friends?!"

"No!" Chloe said, rolling her eyes. "Can you just calm down for a second?"

Aubrey sat back in her chair and folded her arms, but nodded to let Chloe know she could carry on talking.

"I saw her walking home the other night. It was dark and she was alone and really upset," Chloe said. Aubrey’s expression softened slightly, but she didn’t interrupt. "I gave her a ride home and we talked for a while. We really connected. I like her, ‘Bree."

Chloe was looking at Aubrey, desperate for her to understand and not to judge.

"Chloe," Aubrey said, softly, "I’m not saying this is what she’s doing, but are you sure she isn’t, like, using you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like… She knows you work at Support Line, right? She called before… Are you sure she’s not… using you to be her, like, therapist or whatever? Maybe she thinks that you can "fix her" or something?" Aubrey said, delicately. She knew she was treading on thin ice, but she also knew people had taken advantage of Chloe like this before.

"You think someone would only want to be friends with me because I work at Support Line," Chloe said. It wasn’t a question. Her eyes dropped to her hands and she started pulling at her sleeves.

"No," Aubrey said. "No, that isn’t what I meant. You’re an awesome person, Chlo’. But I also know that you’d do anything to help anyone and sometimes it comes back to hurt you. I don’t like seeing you get hurt."

"I know," Chloe said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "You don’t think I’ve had these thoughts myself? Because I have. But she’s different. I made it clear to her that I wasn’t a therapist. I told her I had my own baggage. She understands." Chloe looked back up and made eye-contact with Aubrey. "I _like_ her. She makes me happy. She makes me laugh."

Aubrey sighed. "Okay," she said. "Just… please be careful, okay?"

"I promise," Chloe said. Aubrey smiled, and Chloe smiled back, and the tension seemed to leave them.

"Is she cute?" Aubrey asked, raising her eyebrows.

Chloe laughed. "Yes," she said. "She’s very cute."

"Ah," Aubrey said. "Say no more." She hit play on the TV. "Go on, text her back."

Chloe grinned and picked up her phone.

**Beca: Ryan Gosling, Blake Lively, Jessica Rabbit xx**

**Chloe: You know Jessica Rabbit is a cartoon character, right? xx**

**Beca: Then she’ll be easier to kill xx**

**Chloe: You can’t go easy on me! Give me a real third celebrity please xx**

**Beca: Is it because you actually secretly want to fuck Jessica Rabbit but you’re afraid to admit it? xx**

**Chloe: Yes, obviously. I love how she isn’t three dimensional, that really turns me on. Are you refusing to give me a real third celebrity because you’ve already ran out? xx**

**Beca: No, I just wanted to see if you’d confess your cartoon fetish to me. I’m glad you did, it’s good to talk about these things. So you’re killing Ryan Gosling right? xx**

**Chloe: Naturally. Okay, my turn. Johnny Depp, Kiera Knightly, Orlando Bloom. xx**

**Beca: Okay, a) two of those are men and b) have you just recently watched Pirates of the Caribbean or something? xx**

**Chloe: Maybe. I’m surprised you’ve seen those movies. Since I got stuck with a cartoon character, I’ll replace Orlando Bloom with…**

Chloe looked up from her phone. "Aubrey, give me the name of a female celebrity," she said.

"Uhh… what’s her face out of that movie we watched last week," Aubrey said, still focused on the TV.

"I’ve already got Kiera Knightley," Chloe said with a sigh. "Oh!" She looked back at her phone.

**… Emilia Clarke. You’re stuck with Johnny Depp. xx**

**Beca: I haven’t seen those movies but I don’t live under a rock, I know they’re in them. Do you have a thing for British girls? Okay, kill Johnny Depp, obviously. I will… fuck Kiera Knightly and marry Emilia Clarke. I want some of that Game of Thrones money xx**

"Are you playing fuck, marry, kill?" Aubrey asked.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "You’d fuck Jessica Rabbit, right?"

"Okay, that’s my cue to go home," Aubrey said, standing up. "See you on Monday."

Chloe stood and hugged her a little tighter than usual. "Text me when you get home, yeah?"

"Will do," Aubrey said. "Enjoy your evening."

Chloe grinned. "I will."

When Aubrey left, Chloe returned to her phone. She had another text from Beca.

**Beca: You were right, I’ve ran out of celebrities. The only reason Ryan Gosling came into my head is because I can hear my dad and step-mom watching La La Land again xx**

**Chloe: City of stars… are you shining just for me? xx**

**Beca: Oh my god, of course you liked La La Land xx**

**Chloe: I actually thought it was overrated, but I’m a sucker for a musical. So if you’re out of celebrities what shall we play now? xx**

Chloe glanced at the clock. It was only 8 pm, but they’d been texting most of the day. It was a Saturday so she hadn’t had work or volunteering, and she’d spent most of the day relaxing in the house, texting Beca. She was worried that Beca was using being out of celebrities as an excuse to stop talking.

**Beca: Um… I dunno. I don’t know many games. But, it’s only 8 pm, why don’t we meet up for a drink? xx**

Chloe swallowed, and tapped her thumb on the side of her phone three times. She chewed her bottom lip as she thought of a response.

**Beca: Or not, no pressure. I just thought it might be nice to see you xx**

Chloe smiled, but her stomach was still twisting.

**Beca: Aaaaand that was super cheesy. I’ll shut up now xx**

Chloe laughed, and tapped out her reply, hitting send before she could overthink it.

**Chloe: Aw that was cute. I don’t drink but there’s an all-night diner not far from the college campus, we could go there? xx**

**Beca: Sure, sounds great. I can meet you in like an hour? I just need to get changed and call an Uber xx**

**Chloe: Or I could pick you up? In like 30 minutes? xx**

**Beca: You’re an angel. See you soon! xx**

Chloe smiled, and quickly got changed and did her make-up before driving to Beca’s place.

**Chloe: I’m outside xx**

Beca left the house a few minutes later and made her way to Chloe’s car. She was wearing black skinny jeans again and had a blue flannel shirt over a white t-shirt. When she climbed into the car, Chloe could see her eye make-up wasn’t as dark as it had been last time she’d seen her, but it still made her look, as Aubrey would put it, ‘alternative’.

Chloe had a hard time not staring.

"You look nice," Beca said, smiling as she closed the passenger door.

"Thanks," Chloe said grinning. "So do you."

They pulled away and Chloe tried to focus her attention on the road, and not on the _very_ attractive girl sitting beside her.

"So," Chloe said, wanting to make conversation so her mind didn’t wander, "you don’t drive?"

"No, I do," Beca said. "I sold my car when I was in L.A., but my dad lets me borrow his sometimes. I just had a couple of drinks earlier so I can’t drive tonight."

Chloe glanced across at Beca, who was looking out of the passenger window, her hands tapping her thighs.

Chloe hoped she wasn’t disappointed that she was now headed to a diner instead of a bar.

She looked back at the road, tapping the steering wheel.

"You okay?" Beca asked.

"Yeah," Chloe said, smiling. "Uh, nervous I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve done something that didn’t involve watching reality TV with Aubrey."

Beca laughed, but she sounded nervous too. "I don’t get out much either."

"Going to the diner… that’s okay, right?"

Beca frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. "Yeah," Beca said. "Of course it is. I just suggested a bar because I’m a raging alcoholic," she added, laughing.

Chloe smiled, and let out a laugh that Beca could tell wasn’t genuine.

"Sorry, I make awkward jokes when I’m nervous," Beca said.

"You don’t need to be nervous," Chloe said, very aware that she wasn’t following her own advice.

"Pretty girls make me nervous."


	11. Chapter 11

Chloe didn’t stop smiling for the remainder of the drive to the diner, and Beca pretended that she didn’t notice.

She was smiling too.

They got to the diner, sat in a booth, and Beca immediately grabbed a menu and opened it. Whoever had used it last had spilled syrup in it, and Beca scrunched up her face as the laminated pages stuck together.

Chloe felt another flicker of nerves, worrying that Beca would judge her for picking this place to meet up.

"Oh my god, yes, they have create-your-own waffles!" Beca said, sounding like a kid in a candy store. Chloe felt her nerves disappear. "I haven’t had waffles in forever. There’s this place in L.A. my friend Jesse and I would go to that had the best waffles ever."

Chloe grinned. "What kind are you gonna get?"

"Bananas, chocolate chips, and caramel," Beca said, without hesitation.

"My god, you’re adorable," Chloe said, laughing.

Beca blushed. "Shut up, no I’m not. I’m very cool."

A waiter came and took their orders; coffee and waffles for Beca and just a coffee for Chloe.

"Not eating?" Beca asked, putting the menu back in its holder.

Chloe shook her head. "I had dinner a few hours ago."

Beca nodded and started tapping her hands on her thighs again. She looked as nervous as Chloe felt.

"Okay," Chloe said, trying to put them both at ease again, the way they were when they texted, "let’s play two truths and a lie."

"Okay," Beca said, slowing the tapping to a stop, "you first."

Chloe nodded and then thought for a second. "I fainted when I got my first and only tattoo. I know every word to every song on Sisqo’s ‘Unleash the Dragon’ album. And I once sang backup for Prince with my college a cappella group." She sat back in her seat, looking pleased with herself.

Beca laughed and tilted her head slightly, looking at Chloe and trying to figure her out.

The waiter brought out their coffees, promising Beca’s waffles wouldn’t be much longer.

"Can I ask any clarifying questions?" Beca asked, stirring cream and sugar into her coffee.

"You may ask… two questions," Chloe said, adding sugar but no cream to hers.

"Can I see the tattoo?" Beca asked.

Chloe smiled and carefully pulled the sleeve on her right arm, revealing a tiny ladybug tattoo on her wrist. Once Beca had seen it, she covered it again.

"Super cute," Beca said. She pulled her own sleeve up, revealing the grasshopper tattoo on her forearm.

"Oh my gosh we both have bug tattoos!" Chloe said leaning forward to get a better look.

Beca laughed. "We were destined to be friends." She pulled her sleeve back down. "Okay… tell me one thing about Prince that you’d only know from seeing him in person."

"His butt is so tiny, I could have probably held it in one hand," Chloe said.

"Jesus," Beca said, choking on her coffee. "So… Okay, the lie is the Sisqo thing then. It has to be."

"Nope," Chloe said, grinning. "You really think a tattoo this tiny would make me faint?"

"I don’t know!" Beca said. "It’s on the wrist, it hurts there!"

"Tattoos hurt, you literally get stabbed by tiny needles, I’m sure it hurts wherever you get them" Chloe said, laughing hard.

"Not on your butt," Beca said. "That’s all meat."

"How many butt tattoos do you have?" Chloe asked.

"Only like 10," Beca said. "Don’t be weird about it."

The waiter picked that moment to arrive with Beca’s waffles, and Chloe found it hard to hold back her laughter until he left.

"Your turn," Chloe asked.

"Okay," Beca said, chewing on a bite of waffle as she thought. She swallowed. "I used a fake ID to get my first tattoo when I was 16. I was a busker for a year in New York City. And when I was 14, I used a safety-pin to pierce my own ear and it got infected and I nearly died."

"I get two questions?" Chloe asked. Beca nodded. "Okay, so, no offence, but you don’t really look a day over 18 now. I imagine when you were 16 you looked like a foetus."

"Rude."

"So how on Earth did your fake ID work?"

"It was a sketchy as hell place and they charged me double what they should have. It was a very very dumb thing to do, but I was a very stupid angry kid," Beca said.

"So you’re telling me two years previously, you pierced your own ear and almost died and that didn’t stop you getting a tattoo from somewhere shady?"

Beca shrugged. "Is that your second question?"

"No… What did you play when you busked?"

"Just your classic sad acoustic guitar music. Some Radiohead, some Bon Iver, that kinda thing," Beca said.

"You play guitar and sing?"

"A little yeah. I don’t really do it anymore," Beca said. "Come on then, where’s my lie?"

"You didn’t pierce your own ear," Chloe said.

"Of course I didn’t," Beca said. "That’s psychopath behaviour."

"So you were really a busker?" Chloe asked, once she’d stopped laughing.

"Yeah for a little while. It did not pay well," Beca said. "Can we circle back on you though? You were in a college a cappella group?"

"I sure was," Chloe said, grinning. "We were almost national champions, but Aubrey had a… puking incident."

"You know what, I’m not gonna ask. I have waffles to eat," Beca said. "So you sing then?"

"I used to, yeah," Chloe said. "After college I sort of… lost my passion for it."

"Yeah, I get that," Beca said, chewing another mouthful of waffle.

"Did the same happen to you before you left L.A.?" Chloe asked.

"Kinda," Beca said. "It’s a long story, but after, like, years of trying to get my foot in the door, I finally got a job as a junior music producer. I basically dealt with all the clients the actual producer couldn’t be bothered with. And I just got beaten down by the whole thing. These artists didn’t listen, and the label didn’t make them listen. I was just there to add the autotune and tweak the levels and that was it. They didn’t need anything creative from me." Beca tapped her fingers against the table, wishing she had a beer. "I just started feeling numb about the whole thing. I’d worked so hard to get where I was, but it wasn’t worth it. I used to leave whatever crappy job I was working at and then spend the rest of the night working on my stuff. I had this fire in me, telling me to work, to _create_ because it would all lead to something better. But it didn’t. So I stopped working on my music. I just didn’t have it in me anymore." Beca cleared her throat and took a drink of the now cold coffee, wishing it was booze. "I missed, like, three important deadlines in a row. Clients were pissed. My bosses were pissed. And I just couldn’t bring myself to care. So they fired me. And I had to come back to my home town with my tail between my legs." She shifted slightly in her seat, wishing they could go back to laughing and playing games. She mentally scolded herself for ruining the previously fun atmosphere. 

And then Chloe reached across the table and covered Beca’s hand with her own, brushing her thumb across her knuckles.

"It’ll come back," Chloe said, softly. "That need to create will come back. You just have to give it time."

Beca swallowed and nodded. She moved her hand slightly so she could link her fingers with Chloe’s.

She felt charged, suddenly. Like every touch was causing a spark of electricity.

She couldn’t look at Chloe when she spoke, so she just looked at their hands, and focused on how they felt together, so she could stay grounded.

"I feel like I’m about to say something embarrassing," Beca said.

"Go on," Chloe said. "I won’t judge."

"I like you, Chloe," Beca said, closing her eyes, preparing herself for rejection.

Chloe squeezed her hand. "Look at me," she said, softly. Beca’s eyes rose to meet hers. "I like you too."

Beca gave her the smallest smile, it almost broke her heart.

"You wanna get out of here?" Chloe asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented! I hope you continue to do that


	12. Chapter 12

"You wanna get out of here?"

Beca nodded and pulled out her wallet, dropping enough to cover their order plus a tip on the table.

"You didn’t have to pay," Chloe said, as they walked back to her car, trying not to hurry, but not wanting to dawdle.

"You can’t just steal waffles, Chloe," Beca said.

"Shut up, I would have paid," Chloe said, fumbling with her keys to open the car door.

"You can pay next time," Beca said, letting go of Chloe’s hand so she could climb into the passenger side of the car.

Chloe got in and started the car, but didn’t pull away. She realised they’d hurried out of the diner without clarifying their destination.

"I just want to make sure we’re on the same page," Chloe said, "About where we’re going. I don’t want to jump to any conclusions."

Beca reached across and squeezed Chloe’s arm. "Chloe," she said. "I _like_ you."

Chloe turned to look at her, but still felt unsure.

"I don’t want to assume," Chloe whispered.

Beca unbuckled her seat belt, and moved closer to Chloe, her hand coming to rest on the back of Chloe’s neck.

Chloe swallowed and felt herself leaning in, her eyes falling closed and Beca brought their lips together.

"I need you to say it," Chloe said, once they broke apart. Their foreheads were still touching, and Beca’s hand was still on her neck.

"Okay," Beca said. "Take me to your place."

Beca kissed her again, before moving back into her seat, fastening her seatbelt.

It took Chloe a second to clear her head, but then she was driving them back to her place.

They didn’t speak much as Chloe drove, both trying to steady their own heart rates. Beca felt like the air between them was crackling. Like if she moved she’d get zapped.

"Are you nervous?" Chloe asked as they drove down the empty roads.

"A little," Beca said. "It’s been a while. And I really like you, I don’t want to mess up."

Chloe smiled. "I really like you too. You won’t mess up."

"How about you? Are you nervous?"

"God yes," Chloe said, and they both laughed.

"Can you do me a favour?" Beca asked.

"Sure," Chloe said, glancing across.

"I feel like I might be spending the night," she said, her cheeks burning. "Could we make a quick stop at mine so I can grab some stuff? I don’t wanna have to do a walk of shame tomorrow."

Chloe laughed. "Yeah, of course."

Beca was in and out of her place in record time. She had ran up the stairs and into her room before she reached under her bed and pulled out an almost empty bottle of bourbon. She took a quick swallow to help settle her nerves. She wanted to finish the bottle, but thought better of it.

She grabbed her bag and shoved a change of clothes and underwear, her phone charger, and her toothbrush into it, making sure to rinse the alcohol out of her mouth with some mouthwash while she was still in the bathroom.

As she was coming back out of her room, she bumped into Sheila on the landing.

"Sorry," she said.

"Back out again?" Sheila asked, looking at the bag.

"Uh, yeah," Beca said. She had been planning to just text her dad that she was stopping out. This was far more awkward.

"I’m guessing we won’t be seeing you until tomorrow?" Sheila asked, smirking slightly.

"That would be correct," Beca said, blushing harder. "I’m just, uh, stopping at a friend’s place tonight. Can you tell me dad?"

"Yes, I’ll tell him," Sheila said, grinning. "Be safe."

Beca thanked Sheila as she hurried down the stairs and back out of the house.

"On a scale of one to ten, how eager do I seem right now?" Beca asked, fastening her seatbelt.

"A solid seven," Chloe said. "I might have given you a five or six if you hadn’t literally sprinted across the street."

"Shut up," Beca said, laughing.

They arrived at Chloe’s house before Beca was prepared, and soon she was following Chloe up her drive and towards her front door.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Beca felt herself get pushed against it.

Chloe’s hands were gripping her shirt as she kissed her. Beca dropped her bag on the ground and her hands made their way into Chloe’s hair.

"This is okay, right?" Chloe asked once they broke apart for air.

"Very okay," Beca said, laughing, pulling Chloe towards her again.

"One ground rule," Chloe said, between kisses. "I keep my shirt on."

"Okay," Beca said.

"You can still touch me, but the shirt stays on," Chloe said.

"Of course," Beca said. "Whatever you need."

Chloe took her hand again and lead them up to her bedroom, both of them tripping on the stairs as they tried to carry on kissing.

* * *

Once they were done, they lay cuddled up in Chloe’s bed. Beca had, somehow, found herself as big spoon. She wasn’t complaining. No one ever let her be the big spoon.

Beca’s hand was lazily tracing patterns on Chloe’s stomach under the hoody she had changed into.

"So do you have a full back tattoo of Sisqo, or is there another reason you like to keep your shirt on?" Beca asked, causing a tired laugh to escape from Chloe.

"Please, if I had a full back tattoo of Sisqo I’d never have a shirt on," Chloe said. She wriggled around so she was facing Beca. Beca’s hand was now resting on her hip, her thumb stroking over the bone.

"You don’t have to tell me," Beca said. "I’m just curious."

"I’ll tell you," Chloe said, kissing her forehead. "Just not tonight."

Beca smiled, and they spent the next few minutes just looking at each other.

"You’re really beautiful," Beca said.

"So are you," Chloe replied.

Beca wanted to kiss her again. Desperately. But she knew she had questions she needed to ask first.

"What happens next?" She asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never really been a casual dater. I can’t just… sleep with people. I have to really like them first," Beca said. "I just want to know, like, is this it? With us?"

"I don’t think this is it, do you?" Chloe asked.

"I don’t want it to be," Beca said.

"So then it won’t be," Chloe said.

Beca smiled, but still seemed nervous.

"Beca," Chloe said, her hand coming to rest on Beca’s face. "I like you. I would like to date you and see where this thing goes."

"That sounds good," Beca said, laughing softly. "Sorry."

"Don’t be sorry," Chloe said. "You shouldn’t ever be sorry about being honest about what you want, and what you need."

Beca smiled again. "I wanna kiss you again."

"Then kiss me."

* * *

Chloe woke up the next morning and rolled over, and then felt a jolt of panic when her arm touched the other person in her bed.

Her eyes shot open and she was met with the sight of a fast-asleep Beca. Her heart rate slowed as she remembered what had happened the night before. She smiled.

Beca was lying on her front, her face turned away from Chloe, her arms folded under the pillow.

Some of her other tattoos were visible now. Chloe wondered which one had been her first, the one she’d gotten at 16 with a fake ID.

She wanted to know. She wanted to know everything about her. And some part of her wanted to share herself too. She wanted Beca to know her. To really _know_ her.

It was a scary thought. Terrifying.

Her previous relationships had, for the most part, just been physical. She had used them for relief and distraction. She’d tried to make it work with Chicago, and although a part of her was hurt when he cheated, she had only really felt relief. She hadn’t really wanted a relationship with him.

But as she watched Beca sleep, she realised that a relationship was something she did want with Beca.

They hadn’t known each other long enough, really. And maybe as time went on, she would change her mind, but she didn’t think so. So far every new thing she found out about Beca just made her like her more.

 _You’ll have to tell her everything,_ a voice said in her head. _All of it. It’s only fair._

 _She’ll leave,_ another voice said. _As soon as you finish talking, she’ll leave and won’t look back._

Chloe rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears as the familiar black hole began to open itself up inside her.

She wasn’t good at sharing. Not anymore. She had been an open-book in college, but sharing is easy when you’ve got nothing to hide. When you have no real tragic baggage other than your parents divorce, and a sexuality that you’ve never felt ashamed or afraid of, it’s easy to be open.

It’s easy when all you have is positivity and a seemingly endless amount of energy.

It only gets hard when you actually have things to hide. Things you don’t want to talk about.

She turned her head to look at Beca again.

Beca had shared with her. A lot. And she didn’t look the type to do that. She realised she knew more about Beca than Beca knew about her.

She knew she had to change that.

But not yet.

Not now Beca was rolling over, mumbling about waffles as she woke up. Not now she was furrowing her brow in confusion, before she seemingly remembered where she was and relaxed.

Not now that Beca was looking at her like that.

Like Chloe put the sun in the sky.

"Quit watching me sleep, weirdo," she mumbled.


	13. Chapter 13

"Can I take a shower?" Beca asked, checking her phone as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"Yeah, of course," Chloe replied, watching her with a smile. "You want breakfast?"

"Oh, you don’t have to do that," Beca said. Her smile and tone of voice told Chloe she really did want breakfast.

"I mean I wasn’t offering to whip out the waffle iron, but if I’m toasting myself a bagel the least I can do is toast one for you," Chloe said. "You want one?"

"Yes please," Beca said, biting her bottom lip as she smiled.

"What?"

"I was gonna kiss you but then I didn’t know if that would be weird," Beca said, blushing and laughing.

"I think you went down on me for like 20 minutes last night, Becs, I’m pretty sure it would be weird if you didn’t kiss me," Chloe said, laughing at the way Beca groaned and covered her face.

"Shut up," she said, still laughing. "God, I swear I’m not usually like this, you make me nervous."

"You’re cute," Chloe said, thoroughly enjoying teasing Beca.

"Stop," Beca groaned. "Okay, I’m going in the shower before I spontaneously combust." She gave Chloe a quick kiss and escaped to the bathroom.

Chloe smiled and got up to make coffee.

She froze when she returned to the bedroom, the sound of Beca’s singing stopping her in her tracks.

" _Yeah I know, it’s stupid. But I just gotta see it for myself._ "

 _Holy shit,_ Chloe thought. _Her voice…_

Chloe moved closer to the bathroom door, wanting to hear her better.

" _I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh oh oh_."

Chloe lowered herself to the ground, her back pressed against the door. She didn’t know when she’d started crying, or even why she was crying, but they were spilling down her cheeks by the time Beca sang the next line.

" _And I’m right over here, why can’t you see me? Oh oh oh._ "

Chloe found herself singing along, her own voice barely above a whisper. She knew the song, just not this slower, sadder version.

Beca’s voice seemed to fill her up. It felt like it was pressing on her chest, pushing against her heart and lungs.

" _And I’m giving it my all, but I’m not the guy you’re taking home, ooh, I keep dancing on my own."_

She heard the water turn off, and the sound of the shower curtain getting pulled back, so she hurried to her feet. She grabbed some clothes and rushed to the other bathroom in the house, so she could shower and wash her face. She didn’t want Beca to know she was just crying at the sound of her voice.

Beca was still humming to herself when Chloe returned to the bedroom. She was lying on the bed, fully dressed now, playing with her phone.

"Hey," she said, smiling and looking up.

"Hey," Chloe replied, heading into her bathroom to brush her teeth and take her medication. "I heard you singing."

Beca cringed. "Ugh, sorry about that. I haven’t sang in while, my voice is super rusty."

"It was beautiful, I haven’t heard that version of that song before, did you do it?" Chloe asked.

"Oh, no. This guy was on some British reality talent show and then released this version. It’s kinda nice right?" Beca said.

"Yeah. Your voice is really amazing, Beca," Chloe said, coming into the bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed. Beca looked like she didn’t believe her. "I’m serious." Chloe moved closer, and held out her hand for Beca to take. Beca took it, but she still looked dubious. "Sing something else for me?"

Beca shook her head. "You don’t want that," she said. "I’m not…" She ran her other hand through her hair. "I’m not good. Not anymore. I mean, I was never _that_ good, but I’m worse now."

"Beca, I was in an a cappella group for like four years. I know a good voice when I hear it," Chloe said. "Sing for me."

Beca shook her head again, biting her bottom lip. Chloe looked disappointed, and it did something to Beca’s insides. She didn’t want to be the cause of her looking like that. "I’m sorry," she said. Her eyes then fell on a bright yellow ukulele which was balanced on Chloe’s dresser. "Can you play that?" She asked, nodding in its direction.

"Oh, no," Chloe said, laughing. "I bought for like $10 from a flea market. I thought it’d be super easy to pick up."

Beca stood up and walked over to it. "Can I?" She asked.

"Yeah," Chloe said.

Beca picked it up and returned to the bed, now sitting cross-legged. She pulled an app up on her phone, and started tuning it, plucking each string until the app on her phone flashed green. Once it was done she played a few chords.

"You play this too?" Chloe asked. "Even though it’s not a left-handed one?"

"You noticed I’m left-handed?" Beca asked. "Creeper."

"Shut up, I watched you eat waffles for like 20 minutes last night. I’m very observant."

"Creeper," Beca said again.

"Stop avoiding the question," Chloe said, laughing.

"I just learned how to play guitar right-handed instead of left. I never actually had my own guitar until I was like 17. I always just borrowed Jesse’s, and he’s right-handed. And I don’t play the ukulele. Not really," Beca said. "I just know a few chords."

Beca looked back down at her phone, and started scrolling through a website.

"I can’t remember how to play any actual songs," she said, biting her lip again as she carried on scrolling. "But this website has the chords to like every song ever."

"So you’ll play something for me?" Chloe asked.

"If you’ll sing too," Beca said, looking up at her.

"What if I don’t know the song?" Chloe said, feeling suddenly nervous.

Beca passed her the phone. "Pick one you know," she said.

Chloe didn’t particularly want to sing anything, but she thought it was only fair if she was asking Beca to. She picked a song and handed it back.

"I haven’t sang for a while," Chloe said.

"Me neither," Beca replied, looking down at her phone.

"You can play that one?"

Beca nodded, and played some chords, testing out the rhythm and strumming pattern that the song needed.

"Okay," she said. And she started playing the intro, nodding slightly to try and keep the tempo.

She hummed the verse, because she wasn’t super sure on the words, and she was trying not to mess up the chords. But when the chorus came, she was able to sing, and she smiled when she heard Chloe join in.

" _Lady, running down to the riptide, taken away to the dark side, I wanna be your left hand man."_

Beca almost fumbled a chord when Chloe started to harmonise with her, but she managed to recover. Chloe had the most beautiful voice Beca had ever heard.

" _I love you, when you’re singing that song and, I gotta lump in my throat ‘cause you’re gonna sing the words wrong._ "

Chloe couldn’t believe she was doing this.

She hadn’t sang properly in years, not since college, and she knew her voice was rusty. She couldn’t believe she was singing with a girl she hadn’t known for very long. A girl she’d just slept with. A girl who didn’t really know anything about her.

She couldn’t believe she was doing this.

She couldn’t believe she was _enjoying_ it.

When Beca played the last chord, she dropped back onto the bed.

"My hands are killing, I’m so out of practice," she said, laughing. She looked up at Chloe, who looked like she wanted to cry.

"You okay?" She asked.

Chloe nodded, smiling. "You’re just…"

"What?"

But Chloe shook her head, like she couldn’t find the words.

Beca put the ukulele down and sat up, moving closer to Chloe so she was sitting slightly behind her. She wrapped her arms around Chloe’s waist, and rested her chin on Chloe’s shoulder, holding her tightly.

"You said… The other day in the car, you said you felt like people enter each other’s lives at just the right time," Chloe said.

"That sounds like something drunk me would say to a pretty girl," Beca said, causing Chloe to laugh.

"I think you came into my life at exactly the right time," Chloe said.

"Well," Beca said, turning her head to kiss Chloe’s jaw, "I think the same about you."

Chloe turned her head to kiss Beca properly.

She knew Beca wasn’t here to save her, or fix her. She knew Beca _couldn’t_ fix her, and it would be wrong of her to think that.

But it felt like, maybe, fate was throwing her a line.

It felt like if she held onto Beca, things would be okay. Things would get better.

And she knew Beca needed someone too. You don’t call Support Line when your life is great and you feel mentally stable. You _could_ call them, but Chloe tends to speak to people who feel like they have no one else to turn to. When they feel alone. Totally alone.

Chloe knew they couldn’t cure each other.

But maybe they could help each other?

She felt Beca’s hand tug her hair as she deepened the kiss, and then she stopped thinking all together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented, it really means so much to me! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Songs used:
> 
> Dancing On My Own - Calum Scot  
> Riptide - Vance Joy


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter: Scars are mentioned.

Beca and Chloe spent the next couple of weeks growing closer and closer.

They texted almost every day, went on a few more dates, and Beca had spent more than a few nights at Chloe’s place.

They still hadn’t really defined what they were, relationship-wise, and it was something that was causing Beca constant anxiety. But she was also enjoying herself more than she thought possible, so she didn’t bring it up. She didn’t want to ruin whatever they had.

It was after one particularly nice, chilled Sunday that they had spent together, that they found themselves sitting in Chloe’s car outside Beca’s house, and Beca was once again hesitating. Not wanting to leave Chloe and go home. She never wanted to leave Chloe and go home.

"You’re dawdling again," Chloe said.

Beca gave her a small smile. "I just… I feel like we’ve been in this little bubble today. I don’t want to burst it. I don’t want to go back to the real world."

"What’s in the real world that you don’t like so much?" Chloe asked, reaching across to tuck a strand of hair behind Beca’s ear. Beca was still looking out of the window towards her house.

"I don’t… I don’t feel good there. I feel like a failure. I _am_ a failure. I feel… trapped. I’m back in the same room I lived in as a teenager and I can just _feel_ her in there. Teenage me _judging_ me for how hard I fucked everything up. So I drink too much and sleep all day and just try to forget but I _can’t_ ," Beca said, tears in her eyes. "I’m sorry," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I promised I wouldn’t use you as a therapist, and here I am dumping all my problems on you again. I feel like I do that every time we hang out."

"You don’t need to apologise," Chloe said. "You’re not treating me as a therapist. I asked you a question and you answered it, and I’m glad you did."

"Isn’t that just what therapy is?" Beca said, laughing softly as she wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"You should try it, it’s the best," Chloe said, laughing too. She leaned over to kiss Beca on the head. "You’re gonna figure it out, Becs. Sometimes you just need a little time to let yourself readjust."

Beca nodded, but she still didn’t make any move to leave the car.

"Is your dad expecting you back now?" Chloe asked.

"I dunno," Beca said. "Probably in a few hours."

"Seatbelt," Chloe said, starting the car again.

"Where are we going?" Beca asked, fastening her seatbelt before Chloe drove off.

"Somewhere where we can stay in our bubble," Chloe said.

They pulled up in a parking lot near a hiking trail, which overlooked Barden lake. It was one of the few places in Barden that Beca would describe as beautiful. The sun was just beginning to set, and it cast the lake in warm orange glow. It was like looking at liquid amber.

"Have you driven us to make-out point?" Beca asked.

"No, I think this is murder point actually. Do people make-out here?"

"Dork," Beca said, laughing. Chloe held her hand and they looked out over the lake, watching the dragon flies skim across its surface as the sun got lower.

All they could hear was the chirping of crickets and the steady drone of the highway behind them.

"You aren’t a failure, you know," Chloe said after a small comfortable silence.

"That’s easy for you to say," Beca said. "You have your life together."

"Do I?" Chloe asked, turning her head to look at Beca.

"Well, yeah, you have a job-"

"-at a convenience store." Chloe interrupted. "You think I spent four years at college for that?"

"It’s still a job," Beca said. "And you have a house, and a car. You even volunteer to help other people. You’re in therapy so you’re clearly in the process of sorting your shit out."

"I don’t have my life together, Beca," Chloe said, softly, looking back out across the lake. She felt Beca turn her hand over and start tracing patterns on her palm. Chloe’s chest got tight at the thought that, at any moment, Beca might move her sleeve up. She almost pulled her hand away.

"Tell me about it," Beca said, her voice even softer. And Chloe knew she wasn’t speaking rhetorically. She knew she wasn’t saying it in a _I know, same_ kind of way. She was genuinely asking Chloe to talk to her.

Chloe took a deep breath that shuddered slightly when she exhaled.

"I don’t know where to start," she said.

"The beginning?"

"I don’t want you to look at me differently," Chloe said, tears already in her eyes.

"How do I look at you now?" Beca asked.

"I don’t know," Chloe said, sniffing and laughing softly. "Like… Like I’m good, and warm. Like I’m safe."

"You are good," Beca said. "You’re all those things."

"You don’t know me very well, Beca," Chloe said.

"So tell me," Beca said. "You know more about me than anyone else, and I’m not like that. I don’t share with people. Not anyone. I fucking… I drink in secret, _a lot,_ because I don’t want anyone to ask me about it. I didn’t tell anyone in New York or L.A. that I was gay, because I was so scared they’d react like my mom did. My dad doesn’t even know about the three tattoos on my back. I don’t share myself with people, Chloe. But I did with you. I wanted you to know me, and I don’t know why. And it’s fucking terrifying. But there’s something about you. And I want to know you too. _All_ of you."

Chloe had started crying properly, and Beca held her as best as she could while they were in the car.

"If I’m out of line, tell me," Beca said, kissing Chloe’s head. "If you really can’t talk about this stuff, just say and I’ll shut up about it. We can pretend that this never happened. But I don’t think you want that. I think you want to unload as much as I do. But, like me, you’re scared that whoever you’re talking to will leave. You’re scared… You’re _terrified_ … that they won’t understand, and they’ll look at you like you’re broken, like there’s something wrong with you, and they’ll leave."

And then Beca’s hand slipped beneath her sleeve, her thumb brushing lightly across the raised skin that ran vertically from the crook of Chloe’s elbow to her wrist. And Chloe froze, her stomach seizing and her heart plummeting. "I won’t leave," Beca said, feeling the waves of Chloe’s fear crash against her. "I promise."

"H-How…" Chloe choked out, trying to slow her breathing, and stop crying.

"I saw it last night," Beca said. "I didn’t mean to, I just caught a glimpse while you were changing."

Chloe didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she was feeling relief or anger or what.

All she knew was that, right at this moment, she was panicking.

"I-I N-need…" She stammered, her breathing coming in sharp gasps, the air refusing to reach her lungs.

"Shit," Beca breathed, softly. "Shit, I’m sorry, Chlo’."

Beca moved away from Chloe and out of the car. She rushed around to the driver’s side, and opened the door.

"It’s okay," she said. "You’re okay."

Beca took Chloe’s hands and helped her stand, and half carried her to a patch of grass in front of where the car was parked. She removed the keys from the ignition and shut the car door and then rushed back to Chloe, who was still struggling to catch her breath.

"Chloe, look at me," Beca said, gently.

Chloe’s eyes had gone glassy, and they wouldn’t focus on Beca’s.

Chloe couldn’t even see Beca, anymore. All she could see was her own blood on her hands and arms, the knife she had used discarded by the bathtub.

"Chloe!" Beca said, her voice more urgent. "I need you to listen to me, okay?"

Chloe’s eyes seemed to re-focus and they locked onto Beca’s. She nodded, but couldn’t speak, and couldn’t slow her breathing.

Luckily, Beca seemed to know what she was doing.

"I need you to take a deep breath, okay? Like me," Beca said, taking a deep breath. Chloe tried, but it was just a shallow one. "Let’s try again."

It took almost 15 minutes before Chloe was breathing normally again, and Beca talked her through it softly the entire time.

"I’m so sorry, Chloe," Beca said, once Chloe had calmed down. "I shouldn’t have done it like that. I didn’t think, I’m so sorry."

"It’s okay," Chloe said, her voice still shaky. She looked exhausted.

"It’s not," Beca said. "That was a dick move I just pulled. I just thought that if you knew that I already knew some of it, that it would make you more likely to trust me. Which, in retrospect, was really really dumb. Why would you trust me now after I just triggered your panic attack." She brushed some of the hair out of Chloe’s face. "Are you okay? Let me drive you home."

"How did you know what to do?" Chloe asked, rubbing at a spot on her head, trying to get rid of the headache that was forming.

"Oh, my friend Benji used to get panic attacks a lot when we lived in New York together," Beca said. "I really am sorry."

"Beca," Chloe said, smiling slightly, "it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m not gonna lie, that probably wasn’t the best way to go about that, but I’m okay. I’m not mad."

"Really?" Beca asked.

"Really," Chloe said. "I know you didn’t mean for that to happen, and I’m glad you were able to help me out of it."

"Does… Does that happen often?"

"Not so much anymore," Chloe said. Beca held out her hand to help Chloe stand up, and the redhead took it.

"I’m so-"

"-stop. Stop apologising. I know you’re sorry, and it’s okay, Becs. Really," Chloe said.

"Okay," Beca said, chewing her bottom lip nervously. "We don’t have to talk about it, any of it, if you don’t want to. I realise you have no reason to trust me right now."

"Do you have the keys?" Chloe asked. Beca held them up. "And you’re okay to drive us back?"

"Yeah," Beca said, feeling thoroughly angry and disappointed with herself. "Of course."

Chloe could see Beca beating herself up, so she took her hand and squeezed it. "Stay with me tonight?"

"Are you sure?" Beca asked, not daring to hope that Chloe could have forgiven her.

"I’m sure," Chloe said, kissing her on the cheek. "I wanna tell you about it. About all of it."

"You do?"

"I wanted to before but, it’s like you said, I was scared. I didn’t want you to leave. And… you didn’t. You’re still here, right?"

"Right," Beca said, letting out a breath she had been holding ever since Chloe’s panic attack had started. "I meant what I said, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving."

Chloe kissed her again. "Take me home. We’ll talk there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented so far, and I hope you continue to do so.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter:  
> Suicide, alcoholism, and scars are discussed.

As Beca drove them back to Chloe’s, she kept glancing across the car to check on her.

She felt indescribably guilty, but she was relieved that Chloe still wanted to talk to her, and be with her.

She would have hated herself if she’d ruined this, what ever it was.

"Becs, eyes on the road," Chloe said with a tired smile. "I’m fine, okay baby?"

"Okay," Beca said, unable to stop the smile that took over her face. "Just to clarify though, are we going for ‘baby’ as a pet name? Or are you just calling me an actual baby?"

Chloe laughed. "Do you like baby as a pet name?"

"Baby works," Beca said. "Just don’t call me hon. My dad calls Sheila hon."

"Okay," Chloe said, laughing again.

Beca glanced across again. She really did look exhausted. "Are you gonna be okay for, like, work and everything tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Chloe said. "I don’t start until 2 pm." There was a small silence and Chloe looked over to see Beca worrying her lip with her teeth again. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Beca asked.

"Worrying," Chloe said.

"I’m not," Beca replied. "I’m totally chill. The fact that I just caused you to have a panic attack hasn’t affected me negatively in any way."

Chloe laughed. "You’re adorable."

"How can you call me that when I almost killed you?"

"You didn’t almost kill me, stop being dramatic."

"You stop being… what’s the opposite of dramatic? Blasé? Stop being so blasé," Beca said, relieved that Chloe really didn’t seem to be angry about this.

Once they had arrived back at Chloe’s place, Beca pulled out her phone so she could text her dad and let him know she was stopping out for another night.

"You didn’t want to stop off at your place to let your dad know you weren’t coming back tonight?" Chloe asked as she let them into the house.

"Nah, it’s easier just to text him," Beca said. "Before I left for New York, I spent the night at my, like, only female friend’s house because she was having a house party, and he literally told me to make sure I used a dental dam." Chloe let out a shriek of a laugh.

"No!"

"Yes. I never want to hear my father use those words again in my life."

"Oh my god."

"I know."

"I mean, that isn’t bad advice," Chloe said, wiping away the tears of laughter. "It’s very, um, progressive of him? I imagine if you weren’t gay he would have given you advice about condoms too."

"I’m sure he would have," Beca said, shuddering.

There was a small silence in which Chloe seemed to remember why they’d come back to her place, and what would happen next.

"So… Do you… Do you want a drink or anything? Or something to eat?" Chloe asked, the nerves rising in her stomach.

"No, I’m good," Beca said. "Are you okay?"

Chloe nodded, but she didn’t look it.

"I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Chlo’. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to," Beca said.

"I want to," Chloe said, her voice quiet but determined. "It’s just… It’s hard. Only my therapist and Aubrey know this stuff, and Aubrey only knows because she was kinda… there. My dad knows bits but not everything. Work and Support Line know bits too. But… Other than my therapist, I’ve never had to tell anyone. It’s… hard."

"Is there anything I can do that’ll make it easier?" Beca asked.

"Just… Be patient? It might take a while," Chloe said twisting her hands together.

"Of course," Beca said, kissing her softly on the cheek. "Whatever you need."

Chloe nodded and lead them through to the living room, and they sat beside each other on the smaller of the two sofas because that was the one that reclined. Beca had her arm around Chloe, and Chloe was lying against Beca’s chest, their legs stretched out in front of them.

Beca was acting perfectly calm and reassuring, but Chloe could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

"You’re nervous too," Chloe said.

"I just know this is going to be hard for you," Beca said.

They sat in silence for a while, Chloe playing with the buttons on Beca’s shirt, and Beca playing with Chloe’s hair.

"Okay," Chloe said eventually, letting out a shaky breath. "Exposition time." Beca laughed softly, and gave Chloe a reassuring squeeze. "My parents’ divorced when I was 17," Chloe said. "My dad had… has, I guess, this whole other family. He, uh, he left my mom and me and went to live with them."

Beca didn’t want to interrupt, so she gave Chloe a kiss on the top of her head, to let her know that she was sorry, and that she understood.

"My mom didn’t take it well," Chloe carried on. "She drank a lot." Chloe’s voice caught in her throat, she tried to clear it. "I didn’t take it well either, I guess. I… I took it out on her, which I shouldn’t have. And I _hated_ him."

Chloe’s voice was already faltering, and she knew she had a lot to tell.

"When I was 18, I moved to Barden to go to college. And I spent 4 years being a happy care-free college kid. My dad would always try and call me, but I’d never pick up. My mom would want me to go home every chance I got, but I rarely did. I was having a blast at college, and they just… They brought me down. They made me think about real life."

Chloe could feel the guilt rushing back through her. It was like picking at a barely healed wound and being surprised when it started bleeding.

"I was a jerk," Chloe said, her voice a little higher as she tried to keep her tears at bay. "My mom was reaching out to me and I-" she choked back a sob "-I ignored her."

Beca held her tighter. She wanted to reassure her, but she knew Chloe needed to speak, and she needed to take her time doing so.

"After college finished, I didn’t move back home like she wanted. I got a temp job at the convenience store so I could make a plan and save money for veterinary school," Chloe said, once she’d regained her composure. "One night, my dad called me and, for some reason, I decided to answer. He told me he was worried about my mom. Saying she’d left him a bunch of really weird voicemails. I hadn’t been home in a few months, so I figured I should probably check on her. I booked a flight back to Florida, and probably spent about a week there." Chloe cleared her throat again, steeling herself for the next part of the story. "She was a mess. It was close to the six year anniversary of my dad leaving us. She spent most of the week drunk, and kept begging me to move back home. Saying… Saying she couldn’t cope. I told her I couldn’t. I had all these excuses ready, and we got in some stupid fight, and I left. Just for a couple of hours." Chloe took a couple of deep breaths, and tried to force herself to continue. "When I got home that night, she was playing her and my dad’s wedding song, ‘At Last’ by Etta James. She must have been playing it on repeat. She was… I found her in the bathtub. I tried to help her but… It was too late. _I_ was too late."

Chloe was crying hard now, and Beca pulled her into a proper hug, tears in her own eyes.

"Oh Chloe," Beca said, softly. "Chloe, I’m so sorry."

She’d had no idea that Chloe had been through this. She couldn’t even comprehend the pain she must be feeling. And she knew that Chloe hadn’t finished her story. She knew because she’d seen and felt that mark on Chloe’s wrist. She knew there was more to come.

"It’s my fault," Chloe said, once she found her voice. She had said these words before. To Aubrey and Stacie, and they’d both shot this line of thinking down immediately. But Chloe couldn’t help herself. It was something she thought about every day.

"No, baby," Beca said, holding her tighter. "She made her own decision that night."

"But if I hadn’t fought with her… If I hadn’t left… she mightn’t have done it. She might have lived," Chloe said, struggling to talk through the tears.

"It isn’t your fault," Beca said. "And I know that me saying that doesn’t really mean anything. I know you aren’t just going to believe it because I’ve said it, but this wasn’t your fault. And I hope one day you realise that."

Chloe didn’t speak for a while after that, and Beca wondered if maybe she’d just cried herself to sleep. She didn’t want to disturb her though, so she just carried on stroking up and down her back.

Eventually, Chloe started to speak again.

"I don’t remember a lot about those first few months after she died," Chloe said, her voice small and tired. "My aunt arranged the funeral and my dad helped sell the house, and I used the money for this place. I moved back to Barden as quickly as I could and just… carried on like normal. People at work knew I’d had a death in the family, but they didn’t know who or how. I drank. I drank a lot, and all of the time. I became a pretty solid alcoholic for about a year."

Beca felt her stomach twist when she remembered the dumb joke she’d made that first night they’d went to the diner.

"Aubrey was super worried about me, but I just kept brushing her off. I kept picking fights with her and being… I was just really fucking horrible to her. And then, on the one year anniversary of my mom’s death I…" Chloe’s voice caught in her throat again, and Beca held her tighter. "I tried to… In the bathtub, like my mom did."

Beca started crying then. She was trying to do it quietly, so she didn’t interrupt Chloe, but Chloe felt the jerking of her chest, and the soft gasps for air. Chloe adjusted their positions slightly, and wiped the tears from Beca’s cheeks with her sleeve, kissing the corner of her mouth.

"Sorry," Beca said. "Go on."

"Aubrey found me," Chloe said, carrying on her story. Her voice was rough and jagged now. She was tired. She had been exhausted when Beca had driven them home and now she was somewhere beyond that. Every time she blinked it was a struggle to pull her eyes back open. "She had a key. She still has, just in case. We’d been having this big text fight all day. She wanted to check on me. She’s… She’s a really good friend and I don’t deserve her." Chloe cleared her throat again. "She found me in the tub. I hadn’t even bothered to lock the bathroom door. I kept telling her to get out because I was naked. She called 911 and wrapped towels around my arms and just held me and cried. I was really drunk and I’d already lost a lot of blood before she’d gotten there, so I passed out before the ambulance arrived."

Chloe let out a breath, and when she spoke again her voice sounded stronger. She was coming to the end of her story now. She’d made it. And Beca was still there, holding her tightly.

"When I got out of hospital, I started going to therapy, and taking medication. And I quit drinking. I decided to start volunteering at Support Line not long after I started feeling… I dunno if better is the right word… maybe just more stable. I just wanted to help people. Aubrey talked about it a lot and it just made me think of how often my mom had reached out to me for help and I ignored her. I didn’t want to be that person anymore. I wanted to be better. To actually do some good. It made me feel like Aubrey had found me that night for a reason. And now… here we are. I’ve been sober for three years and I feel… More like myself I guess. I’ve still got depression, anxiety and mild PTSD. ‘At Last’ will still trigger a pretty bad panic attack as will… other things. I’m not the same person I was in college, and I don’t know if I ever will be. But I’m doing better. I’m coping, for the most part."

"You’re… You’re fucking incredible, do you know that?" Beca said, after a small silence. "You’ve been through everything and you’re still here. You’re still helping people. You’re still so… _Good._ And _kind._ You’re… I can’t even describe you."

Chloe shook her head. "I’m not, Beca. I _want_ to be. I want to be that person you’re describing, but I’m not. Not yet."

"You are to me," Beca said. "Come on, you’re exhausted, let’s go to bed."

They held hands as they climbed the stairs, and when they changed for bed (Beca borrowing pyjamas from Chloe), Chloe didn’t bother to wear long sleeves.

Chloe was the big spoon that night, one arm stretched out across the pillows, the other wrapped around Beca’s waist.

"I’m so glad Aubrey found you that night," Beca said softly, as she lightly touched the faded scar on Chloe’s arm. "I can’t imagine my life without you now."

"I’m not going anywhere," Chloe mumbled, sleepily.

"Me neither," Beca replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented so far, you guys keep me going :)


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey," Beca asked, early the next morning as they lay in bed together, talking lazily as they played on their phones. "What are we?"

Chloe looked up from her phone. "What do you want us to be?"

Beca chewed her bottom lip, and looked at Chloe.

Chloe still looked tired from the night before, but she also looked more relaxed. Her hair was messy, and she still had some smudged mascara under her eyes. But she was beautiful. So _beautiful_.

"I want us to be together. Like, for real," Beca said.

Chloe smiled. "I want that too," she said, and Beca’s face lit up. "You got something to ask me?"

"Oh, you’re really gonna make me do this, huh?"

"You bet," Chloe said, grinning hard.

"Chloe Beale," Beca said, "will you do me the honour-"

"-oh my god, I didn’t mean propose, you jerk!" Chloe said, laughing.

"Shut up and let me finish," Beca said. "Will you do me the honour, of being my girlfriend?"

"Yes!" Chloe said, drastically, rolling over so she could pepper Beca’s cheek with kisses. "Yes! A thousand times, yes!"

Beca laughed, and shoved Chloe away.

"For real though?" Beca asked, once they’d stopped laughing. Her voice was smaller, and painfully hopeful. She sounded so vulnerable that Chloe had to fight not to hold her and kiss her. "You want to?"

"I want to," Chloe said, smiling softly. She moved closer to Beca, and kissed her gently, briefly, before cuddling into her.

Beca grinned and wrapped an arm around her, and carried on playing with her phone with the other hand.

"Can I make us Facebook official?" Chloe asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

Beca laughed. "Sure," she said. She knew this meant her mom would find out, but she was past caring about that. She felt like she should warn Chloe though. "Just remember, my mom is a homophobic asshole, and she might… She might message you or something."

"Has she done that before?" Chloe asked.

"No, but she’s never known about any of my relationships before," Beca said. "But she’s very… vocal about her beliefs. It wouldn’t surprise me if she said something to you."

"We don’t have to, you know," Chloe said, adjusting her position so she could see Beca. "I was kind of joking anyway."

"I want to," Beca said. "I just want to prepare you for my mom. You’ll never have to meet her or anything, but it’s a small town and she makes it her mission to know everything that goes on."

"Then she’ll probably find out anyway," Chloe said. "Because naturally I’m gonna be kissing your face off every time we’re outside." Beca laughed. "If you’re cool with it, so am I."

"I’m cool with it," Beca said, smiling.

A few minutes later, Chloe’s phone started ringing. It was her dad calling. Again. She sighed, and put the phone down, intending to ignore it.

"You should answer it," Beca said. "He’s just gonna keep calling otherwise."

Chloe groaned but picked up the phone and answered it. "Hey dad," she said, climbing out of bed and leaving the room.

Beca smiled as she watched her leave. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this good.

She looked down at her phone, and saw Chloe’s Facebook post had already gotten her more likes and comments than she’d ever seen. It was nice that people seemed to be happy for them.

She knew her mom wouldn’t be happy about it, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when she could still feel Chloe’s kisses burning her skin.

"How did it go?" Beca asked when Chloe returned, climbing back into bed.

"He wants to go for dinner with me," Chloe said. "But I don’t really want to."

"When was the last time you saw him?" Beca asked.

"Maybe a year ago," Chloe said, feeling guilty. "Our relationship never really recovered after he left us. He tried. He tried really hard, especially after my mom died. But I just… I never forgave him."

"I get it," Beca said. "It took me a long time to forgive my dad for divorcing my mom. And it didn’t help that she was always bad mouthing him, and trying to stop us from speaking."

"You guys have a good relationship now though," Chloe said.

"Yeah, we do. When my mom kicked me out he was there for me, and when I left L.A. he was there to take me in again," Beca said. "Do you want a relationship with your dad? You don’t need to have a relationship with someone who’s bad for you, you know? That’s why I plan on never seeing my mom again."

"I don’t really know. He isn’t bad for me, but I guess I still kinda blame him for what happened to my mom. Which is stupid, I know. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t make her do that. I just think that if he hadn’t left her… If he’d picked us over this other family or, even better, if he hadn’t cheated at all… I dunno, maybe things would have turned out different."

"I know," Beca said, pulling her close. "It’s a shitty situation."

"You were young when your parents got divorced, right?" Chloe asked, resting her head on Beca’s chest.

"Yeah, I was six," Beca said.

"That must have been hard," Chloe said.

"Kinda," Beca said. "But I don’t really have any memories of them being happy. They fought all the time, and when they separated, I just kinda felt relieved. I mean, I was sad too. And angry. I guess I just wanted this storybook family with a happy mom and dad who loved me. But I didn’t have that before they divorced, and at least this way I didn’t have to listen to them fight every day."

"Your mom and dad still loved you, Becs. Even if they didn’t love each other," Chloe said.

"My dad loves me. I don’t know if my mom ever did, but she certainly doesn’t now," Beca said shaking her head. "Anyway, what do you want to do about your dad?"

"I guess I should give him a chance," Chloe said. "He’s trying, people deserve second chances. But I was wondering, would you come with me?" She asked.

"You want me to come have dinner with your dad?"

"Yeah," Chloe said, biting her lip. "If that’s okay?"

"Of course," Beca said. "Is he gonna be okay with us being a couple?"

"Yeah, Chloe said. "He’s not homophobic or anything, I wouldn’t have asked you if he was. I wouldn’t put you through that."

"Okay," Beca said, still feeling a hint of nerves. "Would now be a good time to mention that my dad and Sheila want to invite you over for dinner too?"

"They do?"

Beca nodded. "They’re really eager to meet the reason I’ve been so happy lately."

Chloe grinned. "So, we’ve been officially a couple for less than an hour, and we’re already making plans to meet each other’s family?"

"I guess so," Beca said, smiling too. "So, do you want to?"

"Of course I do," Chloe said.

"Don’t worry, they’re chill," Beca said. "My dad actually teaches at Barden University so you guys will at least have that to talk about."

"Oh no way, what does he teach?" Chloe asked.

"Comparative Literature," Beca said. "As someone who doesn’t read much, I am a constant disappointment to him."

"Well I took Russian Lit, but unless your dad is an angry Russian lady, I don’t think I had any of his classes," Chloe added.

"What’s her name?"

"Professor Katya Kozlovsky."

"Yeah that’s my dad," Beca deadpanned.

"Shut up," Chloe said, laughing.

"It’s true, my name is Beca Kozlovsky," Beca said, trying not to laugh as Chloe shoved her away.

"You’re a dork."

"My dad knows Putin, so I could actually have you killed for that."

* * *

"Is Chloe on her way?" Beca’s dad asked, helping her set the table.

It was a couple of weeks after Beca and Chloe had become an official couple, and Chloe was finally coming over to meet Beca’s dad and Sheila. They had plans to go for dinner with Chloe’s dad in a few days. Because both girls were feeling nervous about both meals, they decided to get them out of the way together.

"Yeah," Beca said. "She should be here soon."

"Don’t be nervous," Beca’s dad said, nudging her with his elbow. "We’re nice. We’re fun. We’re," he nudged her again, "hip!"

"Oh my god, I hate, you," Beca said, laughing.

Beca felt butterflies erupt in her stomach at the sound of Chloe’s knock at the door.

"Oh my god it’s her!" Her dad said, putting on a fake girlish voice.

"Okay John, cut it out," Sheila said, laughing.

Beca opened the door, and her nerves immediately dissipated at the sight of Chloe standing there. "Hey," Beca breathed out, stepping aside to let her in. "You look amazing."

"So do you," Chloe said, smiling softly. They stared at each other, just drinking in the other person, until Beca’s dad cleared his throat.

"Oh," Beca said, remembering where they were and that she couldn’t just rip Chloe’s clothes off. "Um, Chloe, this is my dad John Mitchell, and my step mom Sheila Mitchell. Guys, this is Chloe."

"Nice to meet you," Chloe said, shaking both of their hands. "I don’t know if this is good wine or not but I brought this." Chloe handed over a bottle of wine, which Sheila took.

"Thank you so much, you didn’t have to do that," Sheila said. "It’s lovely to finally meet you Chloe."

"I’m very excited to meet the person who turned Beca from scowling teenager to smitten teenager," Beca’s dad said, earning an eye-roll from Beca and a whack on the arm from Sheila. "I’m kidding! It’s gonna be a long night if you’re already sick of my dad jokes."

"That wasn’t even a dad joke, that was a _bad_ joke," Beca said.

"Oh my god," Chloe said, laughing.

"That was a pretty good dad joke," Beca said. "Right?"

"Sure babe," Chloe said. "Could I use your bathroom?"

"Of course," Beca said, "It’s just upstairs, I’ll show you where it is."

As soon as they were upstairs, and out of sight of Beca’s family, Beca felt herself get pushed against her bedroom door, and then Chloe’s mouth was on hers.

"Sorry," Chloe said, breathless, smiling. "You look so cute, I just wanted to kiss you. I didn’t think I could wait until the end of dinner."

"Never apologise for that," Beca said, grinning.

"Is this your bedroom?" Chloe asked, looking at the door that Beca was currently pinned against. Beca nodded. "Can I see?"

"Sure," Beca said, turning the handle to let them in.

Chloe stepped into the room, and felt like she was being greeted by the teenage version of Beca that she’d heard so much about.

The room was dark, even with the light on. The bed was un-made, and clothes had been haphazardly tossed towards the laundry basket.

"I would have tidied if I’d known you were gonna see it," Beca said, cringing slightly.

Chloe shook her head and smiled, and continued looking around the room. There was an old guitar balanced against a wall, a dusty keyboard shoved in a corner, and Beca’s laptop and mixing equipment were on her desk. Chloe knew it had been a while since they’d been touched. The walls were full of posters for bands, most of them she’d never heard of, and there were some photos and concert tickets stuck around her mirror.

Chloe smiled at the picture of Beca and a boy at prom, both standing back to back in tuxes. Her fingers lightly brushed across the photo of Beca’s high school graduation, and one of her playing in a bad on stage, with that same boy.

"Your friend Jesse?" Chloe asked, spotting him in a third picture.

"Yeah," Beca said. "He was like my brother growing up."

"Where is he now?"

"Still in L.A., living the dream," Beca said. "But these days, I’m feeling less and less jealous of him." She slipped her hands around Chloe’s waist.

"Why’s that?" Chloe asked, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

"Because if I was still in L.A., I wouldn’t have met you," Beca said.

"You’re cute," Chloe said, turning around to face Beca.

"You’re cute too," Beca said, leaning in to kiss her.

The remainder of dinner with Beca’s family went smoothly.

Chloe declined wine when it was offered, and Beca stopped after one glass. Beca’s dad and Sheila asked questions about Chloe’s life, but never pried or pushed a subject.

"I knew I recognised you!" Sheila said, once Chloe told them where she worked. "You’re my favourite check-out girl!"

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Chloe said, laughing, relieved that she wasn’t being judged for working at a convenience store.

"No, you’re really my favourite! You’re like a bagging wizard, everything just fits when you bag my stuff, and nothing gets squashed!"

"I’m a giant in my field," Chloe said, holding her hands up.

They all laughed, and Beca grinned at Chloe.

"So," Beca’s dad said, once the laughter had died down. "Has Beca met your parents yet Chloe?"

"Oh, no," Chloe said, her smile slipping slightly. "We’re going for dinner with my dad next week, but, um, my mom passed away a few years ago."

Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand under the table.

"Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Chloe," Sheila said. "How awful."

"I’m sorry Chloe, I didn’t know," Beca’s dad said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"That’s okay," Chloe said, putting her smile back on. "So Mr Mitchel, Beca tells me you teach at Barden University?"

Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand again, feeling guilty. She didn’t know if she should have given her dad a head’s up to stop him putting his foot in his mouth, but she also knew this wasn’t her story to share.

Chloe seemed to have taken it in her stride, but that didn’t stop Beca from feeling guilty.

When the evening wrapped up, Beca walked Chloe to the door while her dad and Sheila started tidying up.

"Sorry about earlier," Beca said, looking down.

Chloe tilted Beca’s chin up so she could look at her. "It’s okay," she said, smiling. "I know you’d never tell anyone that stuff I told you, and I really appreciate that."

"I should have at least given him a heads up. Like, don’t mention moms, don’t offer wine every ten seconds, stuff like that," Beca said, relieved that Chloe wasn’t mad.

Chloe laughed, "You’re cute."

"You’ve called me cute like 5 times tonight," Beca said, grinning.

"Stop being so damn cute then," Chloe said.

"I didn’t say I didn’t like it.


	17. Chapter 17

"You ready, babe?" Chloe called, checking her makeup in the mirror.

"Yeah," Beca replied, coming down the stairs of Chloe’s place, smoothing out the wrinkles in her shirt. "Do I look okay?"

"You look gorgeous," Chloe said, smiling.

"Thanks," Beca said, smiling, relieved. "So do you. You feel okay?"

"Yeah," Chloe said. "Nervous."

"I know," Beca said. "But I’ll be there the whole time, okay? And if it gets too much, we can leave."

Chloe smiled at her, and kissed her gently on the cheek so she didn’t leave a lipstick smudge. "Come on, we’ll be late."

They climbed into the car and Chloe drove them to the restaurant where they’d be meeting her dad. She was nervous, but knowing Beca was going to be beside her the whole time made her feel better.

She felt like she could face anything as long as Beca was with her.

"Table for three, under Beale," Chloe said, when they entered the restaurant.

"Right this way," the hostess said, smiling.

She lead them to one of the booths that were against the window, looking out onto the street.

"Window or aisle?" Beca asked, taking her jacket off and smoothing out her shirt again.

"Aisle," Chloe said, laughing. She smiled when Beca helped her out of her jacket, and her heart seemed to melt as her girlfriend tugged her sleeves down, making sure her arms were covered.

"You good?" Beca asked, sliding into the booth. Chloe nodded, sitting beside her.

Chloe’s phone buzzed.

**Dad: Running late, sorry! Be about 20 minutes xx**

"Dad’s running late," Chloe said, reading the text.

"No problem," Beca said. "It takes me a solid hour to decide what to order at a restaurant anyway."

Chloe laughed. "No it doesn’t. You’ve ordered either a burger or waffles at every restaurant we’ve been to."

"That’s very true, but I at least like to pretend to read the menu," Beca said, opening the menu. "Damn, this shit is fancy."

"Don’t worry about it," Chloe said, looking at the menu too. "Money isn’t an issue for my dad." Beca was still biting her lip as she looked down. "Hey," Chloe said, tucking a strand of Beca’s hair behind her ear. "It’s okay. My dad can afford this, no problem. It wouldn’t even cross his mind that this place is expensive."

Beca nodded.

"See something you like?"

"They don’t do burgers," Beca said, with a sigh, and Chloe laughed again. "What kinda place doesn’t do burgers?"

"I dunno babe," Chloe said. "I would say fancy Italian places don’t do burgers."

Beca sighed again. "They don’t do waffles either."

Chloe felt something pull in her chest. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She knew everything Beca was doing was to make her laugh. To make her feel relaxed.

It was almost painful, the rush of affection she got.

"Hey Beca, I-"

Her voice was cut off by the sound of music playing in the restaurant.

 _No. No not this. Not now,_ Chloe thought, her voice getting trapped in her throat.

She knew the song by the first beat of music, and she felt her chest get tight.

She felt Beca move beside her, but her vision was swimming before her, and Beca felt suddenly far away.

All she had was the song, and the memory.

Etta James’ voice, floating over the images of her mom in that bathtub.

And then she felt a something get put over her head, covering her ears.

And new music was playing. David Guetta’s Titanium was drowning out any other sound in the restaurant, and slowly Chloe came back to the room. Tears still pricked her eyes, and her breathing was a little shallow, but she was coming down.

Beca was running a hand up and down her back, watching her with eyes full of concern.

Chloe saw her signal a waitress, but didn’t hear the conversation. The woman returned soon after with a glass of water, and Beca typed out a message on her phone for her to read.

**They skipped this song, do you want me to turn the music off?**

Chloe nodded and took the headphones off her head.

"Th-thank you," Chloe stammered, taking a drink of water. "Sorry."

"Don’t be sorry," Beca said, brushing a stray tear from Chloe’s cheek. "Are you okay?"

Chloe nodded. "That was quick thinking."

Beca shrugged. "I know that song’s a trigger for you. I thought it might, I dunno, stop your panic attack if it was suddenly replaced by something else. I didn’t know if it would work or not."

"You’re amazing," Chloe said, the words she had wanted to say before came back to her again. Waiting to be said. _Wanting_ to be said.

"Chloe," a man’s voice said, interrupting. "Sorry I’m late."

Chloe turned away from Beca to the man standing just beside their booth. She stood and gave him a perfunctory hug. "That’s alright. Beca, this is my dad, Anthony Beale. Dad, this is my girlfriend Beca."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Beale," Beca said, standing and shaking his hand.

"You too," he said sitting down opposite them.

Chloe was feeling on edge again. Interrupted and rattled. Beca slipped her hand into hers under the table, squeezing it to ground her.

"Have you girls decided what you want to order yet?" He asked, seemingly oblivious to how unsettled his daughter was.

"Not yet," Beca said, glancing across at Chloe.

The thumb of Chloe’s other hand was tapping on the table, as she looked down at the menu she was sharing with Beca.

"The chicken Alfredo is really good here," he said, picking up the wine list. "Do you like wine, Beca?"

"I do, but I think I’ll stick to water tonight," Beca said. "I’m driving us back later."

"You can have wine if you want," Chloe said, looking across at her. She tried to sound light and casual, but Beca could hear the strain in her voice. Beca hadn’t planned on driving them back, but she knew how tired Chloe got after a panic attack. She also didn’t want to be drinking in front of her right now. "I can drive."

"That’s okay," Beca said, squeezing her hand again. "You drove us here, I can drive us back."

Chloe smiled and nodded. She knew what Beca was doing, and she was beyond grateful.

"Well, I don’t want a whole bottle of wine just to myself, I’m driving too," Chloe’s dad said, still oblivious to the atmosphere around him. "No wine for you, Chloe?"

"N-no," Chloe said, caught off guard.

She could practically hear the question that Beca was asking with her eyes.

_He doesn’t know?_

"Still off the drink?" He asked, casually.

Chloe’s hand was tapping again. She felt like she wanted to crawl out of her own skin. Like she wanted to disappear. She had a sudden, strong, almost overwhelming, urge for a drink. Any drink. Just a mouthful. Just enough to burn her throat.

She exhaled slowly.

"Yeah," she said, pushing the urge away.

He nodded, like he approved. "So how did you two meet?"

The topic of conversation was shifting too much for Chloe to keep up with.

"I met her at the store where she works," Beca said, realising she’d have to handle the conversation for the time being. Her hand never left Chloe’s as she talked, her thumb brushing over Chloe’s knuckles. "We chatted for a bit and just sort of hit it off. Then she ended up giving me a ride home one night, and we traded numbers and now, here we are."

"Still working at the old 7-Eleven?" He asked. He didn’t sound judgemental, just surprised.

"It’s not a 7-Eleven," Chloe said.

"You know what I mean though," he said, waving dismissively. "Have you thought anymore about going back to school? You know I’m willing to pay for it."

Chloe shook her head. "Not yet," she said.

He sighed, and Beca felt Chloe tense up again.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but the waitress appeared to take everyone’s order.

They ordered their food, and Chloe’s dad ordered a glass of expensive scotch. Beca felt an itch deep inside at the thought of ordering and drinking a bourbon, but she ignored it. She knew Chloe was quietly falling apart next to her, and Beca needed to be solid and stable right now.

It didn’t take long for the food to arrive, and Chloe seemed to relax a bit as they ate. Beca was making an effort to keep the conversation light, and Chloe was beyond grateful.

She knew Beca was finding this hard since she wasn’t a fan of talking to people in general, especially people she didn’t know. If you didn’t know Beca, you wouldn’t have known anything was wrong, but Chloe could tell by the way her eyes kept darting, how she kept fidgeting in her seat, and the way her leg bounced gently under the table, that Beca was struggling.

She was eternally grateful for her.

There was a lull in conversation as their empty plates were cleared, and Chloe felt her dad watching her. Studying her.

"Can I speak to you alone for a moment, Chloe?" He asked. He turned to Beca. "If that’s okay with you? I just have some family things to discuss with her."

"Sure," Beca said. "Chlo’?"

Chloe nodded, and stood up to let Beca slide out of the booth.

"I’ll just be outside," Beca said, squeezing her arm and kissing her cheek as she passed. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Chloe said. She sounded tired, and Beca found it hard to leave her. "It won’t be long, I’ll text you."

Beca nodded and left them to it.

"She’s nice," Chloe’s dad said as she sat back down.

"She’s great," Chloe said. "What’s going on then?"

"You tell me," he said. "You’ve barely said two words since I got here."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Don’t," she said. "I’m trying."

"Are you? If this is you trying…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "I want to fix things between us, Chloe. I’ve always wanted that. But you just… you make it so hard."

"You’re the one who left," Chloe said, feeling tears burn her eyes.

"Ten years ago," he said, exasperated. "Your mom and I divorced ten years ago, Chloe. How long are you going to hold onto that? How long are you going to punish me for that?"

"I don’t care that you got divorced," Chloe said. "Everyone’s parents get divorced. I care that you _left_. You chose your other kids over me. How do you think that makes me feel? My own… My dad… My _hero,_ cheated on my mom for _years_. He cheated so long he had two other kids that he loved more than he loved me."

"I didn’t choose them," he said. "I didn’t choose them over you. I chose… I chose Caroline over your mom. I wasn’t a good husband, and I wasn’t a good dad. But I never wanted to leave you, Chloe. You’re my little girl. My little Chlo-bear."

"Stop it," Chloe said, her voice a harsh whisper, tears building quickly in her eyes.

"You were so angry with me, and rightly so," he said, as if there’d been no interruption. "And maybe I should have fought harder to be a part of your life. But I just couldn’t handle you looking at me like you hated me. But I want you in my life, Chloe. Properly. I want to be in your life. I want to be your dad again."

"Why now?" Chloe asked, drying her eyes on her sleeve.

"I’ve wanted this for years," he said. "I’ve wanted this since I left. But you’ve never let me get this far before. Please." He reached his had out across the table. "Can we try and fix this?"

Chloe closed her eyes, and tried to pull up the good memories she had with her dad. She thought about those late nights, when they would stay up at watch TV together, her always falling asleep on his chest. She thought about how he would sneak her extra dessert, and how he would check her room every night for monsters.

She remembered when she was Chlo-bear, and he was daddy. _Her_ daddy.

And then she was nodding, tears spilling down her cheeks as she gripped his hand.

They left the restaurant soon after, his hand resting on her back.

Beca was waiting at Chloe’s car for them, and she frowned when she the tears on Chloe’s face.

"You’re a good kid," Chloe’s dad said to Beca as they reached her. "I know you’ll take good care of her." He turned to Chloe. "I’ll call you soon, yeah?" Chloe nodded and he kissed her forehead before he left.

"Chloe?" Beca asked, taking Chloe’s hands in hers.

"Take me home?" Chloe asked, sniffing.

"Of course," Beca said. She took the keys out of Chloe’s jacket pocket, and helped Chloe into the car.

They drove in silence, Beca glancing across the car every few minutes.

Chloe looked lost in her own thoughts, curled up on the seat, her head resting on the window.

Beca turned back to face the road. She wanted to pull Chloe out of her own head, but didn’t know how to do that. Chloe didn’t seem to want to talk, and Beca didn’t want to force her too. So she started to sing.

Softly, and quietly, so if Chloe wanted to hear she’d have to really listen.

" _But even in the dark I saw you were the only one alone,_ " Beca sang, nodding her head slightly, hearing the music in her head. " _At these hot gates you spit your vitriol, though you swore you wouldn’t do this anymore._ " She became aware of Chloe watching her, but she didn’t stop singing. " _And I can't be for you all of the things you want me to, but I will love you constantly, there’s precious little else to me, and-_ "

"I love you," Chloe said. Her voice was rough, like she’d swallowed broken glass, and it was quiet. But Beca heard her. It stopped Beca’s singing immediately. "I’ve wanted to say that all night. And I don’t need to hear it back. I just wanted you to know. I love you."

Beca wondered if she was supposed to feel scared. Or freaked out. Or… any bad emotion.

She just felt relief.

She could finally say the words _she’d_ been holding onto.

"I love you too," Beca replied, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Because it was.

Loving Chloe was the easiest thing she’d ever done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Song used:
> 
> Hot Gates - Mumford and Sons


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has trigger warnings which may give spoilers. Please scroll past this note to avoid those.
> 
> I have to admit I'm super nervous about this chapter, and the ones coming up.
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter:  
> Paedophilia is talked about and suicide by shooting is implied.

**Beca: Call me when you get off work? xx**

Chloe smiled at her phone, tapping out a reply.

It was two weeks after dinner with her dad. Two weeks since she’d told Beca she loved her, and two weeks since she heard it back.

**Chloe: I finish at 3 am babe. You want me to wake you up at 3 am? xx**

The kettle in the break room finished boiling, and she poured hot water into her mug and over the herbal tea tea-bag. She held the string, bobbing the bag up and down as she tried to stifle a yawn.

She’d decided to give caffeine a break for a couple of weeks, following some advice from Stacie. Her anxiety had been steadily rising, and Stacie had recommend she cut back to see if it would help.

She found she got fewer heart palpitations, but it did nothing to help her near-constant tiredness.

Her phone buzzed again.

**Beca: Bold of you to assume I’ll even be asleep xx**

**Chloe: You should be asleep right now, it’s almost midnight. I gotta go babe. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. It’s Saturday tomorrow, we can hang out all day xx**

Chloe shoved her phone back into her pocket and returned to her desk.

Aubrey had been at her parents’ place in New York for almost a week, and Chloe missed having her to talk to during the quiet moments at Support Line. It was lucky her girlfriend was apparently nocturnal.

She heard the familiar chirp in her ear, and she pushed all other thoughts aside and focused.

"Hello, you're through to Support Line."

She heard someone take a shuddering breath.

"H-hello?" They said. It sounded like a man’s voice. Gruff and heavy with tears. Straining.

"Hello, is there anything you’d like to talk about?" Chloe asked, her voice calm.

She could hear wind and the sound of their heavy breathing. The sound of gravel crunching under their feet.

She waited for them to talk, as she so often did. She couldn’t help but feel a slow rise in her anxiety though. She tried to ignore it.

"Would you like to tell me your name?" She asked, after about 30 seconds of silence.

"Nathaniel," he said, his voice thick and shaky.

She heard a slow creak which sounded like a heavy wooden door opening.

"Why did you decide to call us tonight, Nathaniel?"

"Because I wanna do a bad thing," he said.

The wind was quieter now, it sounded like he was indoors somewhere. He was still walking, Chloe could hear his footsteps, but wherever it was was much quieter. She couldn’t help but picture him in a barn. Dark and empty.

Chloe’s anxiety spiked again.

"What is it you want to do?" She asked, trying to keep her voice calm and reassuring.

"It’s bad," he sucked in a breath and then let it out slowly. "It’s real bad miss."

"I’m not here to judge you," Chloe said, her heart still racing. "I’m just hear to listen."

"Maybe you should judge me," he said. "God will. I know he will. They all will, when they find out."

"That’s not why I’m here, Nathaniel," Chloe said. She had heard people confess to the worst type of things before. It was never easy and she started preparing herself for the worst.

"There’s a girl in the town," he said, his voice straining. "She’s real pretty, miss. A real cute thing. I keep thinking… I can’t stop thinking about her. I got a wife. I got two kids. But I can’t stop thinking about this girl."

Chloe felt herself relax slightly. She had spoken to many people about cheating on their spouses. Sometimes, people just needed to confess. It didn’t mean she approved, but she wasn’t there to approve. She was there to listen.

"She likes the farm," he said, his voice softer now he was talking about this girl. "I live on a farm and she likes it here. She likes to come and feed the chickens. Her mom brings her sometimes."

A cold wave of nausea swept over Chloe.

"Nathaniel," she said, her voice quieter now but less calm. "How old is she?"

She heard him sigh. "That’s the problem miss."

"How old is she?"

"Eight."

Chloe quickly muted the mic on her headset and let out stream of whispered profanities. She couldn’t shout, because the room was filled with other people on calls, but she wanted to. Her heart was racing and she felt like she was going to be sick. She raised her hand and waved it, signalling to someone who wasn’t currently on a call that she needed help.

Ted, the office manager, came over. She opened her notebook and quickly scribbled down a word.

 _Paedophile_.

Ted nodded, and sat down beside her. He picked up the handset so he could listen to.

Chloe wasn’t lying all those weeks ago when she’d told Beca these calls didn’t get recorded.

She had no way to trace the call, or find out where Nathaniel was. She couldn’t send police to his location to arrest him before he did anything. All she could do was talk. Talk and listen. And pray she could stop him doing something bad.

"Miss, you’re judging me, aren’t you?" Nathaniel said, sounding distressed.

Chloe un-muted her mic. "No, I’m not," she lied. "You said you wanted to do a bad thing, does that mean you haven’t done anything yet?"

"No, I haven’t done anything," he said. "I know it’s wrong, miss. I know that. I know what they call men like me. I don’t want to be this person. I don’t want to hurt that little girl. But I see her and… I never felt like this before, miss. I never did anything like this before, I want you to know that."

"It isn’t too late, Nathaniel," she said, glancing over at Tod who nodded in support. "You haven’t done anything yet. You haven’t… You haven’t hurt anyone yet. There are people you can talk to about this. You can get help."

Nathaniel laughed, sadly. "Naw," he said. "You can’t help people like me. When a dog goes rabid, you put it down. That’s what I gotta do. Before someone gets bit."

Chloe felt that cold wave hit her again.

"I just wanted to tell someone," he said. "Didn’t want to confess to no priest, but I couldn’t take this with me. It would weigh me down. Stop me getting into heaven."

"Nathaniel…"

"You’ve been real kind, miss. Thank you for that."

Chloe heard what sounded like a shot-gun being pumped.

"Wait!"

And then the gun was fired.

And all Chloe could hear was the barn-door banging softly in the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who's commented so far. I know this chapter was short and heavy, and we have a lot of drama coming up, so I hope you stick with me.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm an idiot and when I added the first chapter of this fic I miscounted the number of chapters. I thought there was 20 chapters plus an epilogue but in actual fact there's 21 and an epilogue. 
> 
> I think this chapter is the one I'm most nervous about, so I really hope you like it.
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter:  
> Alcoholism.

Chloe was in her car and driving home before her mind could catch up with what had just happened.

Her hands were shaking on the wheel and her breathing was coming in fast, uneven gasps.

Her phone was buzzing in her pocket, but she knew it would just be Tod calling, trying to get her to come back.

They didn’t like you just leaving after a traumatic call. They needed you to talk through it with someone.

Chloe didn’t want to talk.

She didn’t want to _think_.

She parked haphazardly on her drive and fumbled with her keys as she tried to get into her house.

The gunshot was still ringing in her ears.

She paced her kitchen like a trapped animal.

Her breathing was frantic and her hands were shaking and tingling badly.

She needed to settle her nerves and calm her mind. She needed something to bring her down. To numb her.

She pulled out her phone and called Beca.

Beca answered on the 6th or 7th ring. "Hello?" She said, her voice laced with sleep.

"Hey," Chloe said, her voice shaking and sharp and nothing at all like Chloe’s voice. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Are you okay?" Beca asked, stifling a yawn.

"Listen, can you come over?"

"Yeah, of course," Beca said.

"Can… can you bring some… I need a drink, Beca. Can you bring something?" Chloe said.

Beca could hear the panic and need in her voice. "Are you sure?" She asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure," Chloe said.

"Okay," Beca said. "See you soon."

Chloe felt a rush of relief. She ended the call and carried on pacing, waiting for Beca.

She heard the sound of a car pulling up, a door slamming, and then a car driving off. Beca was knocking at her door a few seconds after.

"Hi," Beca said, eyeing Chloe cautiously as she stepped aside to let her in. "Are you okay?"

"Did you bring it?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah," Beca said, hesitantly. "What’s going on, Chlo’?"

Chloe was already pulling two glasses out of her cabinet.

"I don’t want one," Beca said. "I’m trying to cut down, remember?"

"Right," Chloe said, shaking her head slightly as she put the second glass back. She had a vague memory of a conversation they’d had, but it didn’t matter to Chloe at that moment. Nothing mattered, except that drink. "Can I have it? Please?"

"Can you talk to me first?" Beca asked. She’d never seen Chloe look like this before. She was scared.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "If I wanted to talk, I’d have called Aubrey," she snapped, her voice harsh. "I need a fucking drink, Beca. I called you because I need a fucking drink."

Beca took a step back. She didn’t know this person in front of her.

" _That’s_ why you called me?" Beca asked, her voice small.

Chloe made a face as if to say _duh!_

Beca felt her heart break as she took another step back.

"I don’t know what happened," Beca said. "But this isn’t okay."

Chloe let out a frustrated groan. "Please, Beca. Can you just give it to me?"

Beca didn’t move, she was watching Chloe the way a mouse would watch a cat. Terrified of moving. Terrified of being seen.

"For fuck’s sake, Beca!" Chloe said, snapping again. She hated the flash of fear she saw in Beca’s eyes, the way she jumped at her voice. But she _needed_ that drink. "Please," she added, forcing an air of calmness to her voice.

Beca reached into her bag and pulled out an almost empty bottle. There was barely enough for one glass inside. She still didn’t hand it over.

Chloe knew what she was doing was wrong, but she couldn’t see past this burning urge. She could still hear the gunshot ringing in her ears.

She even felt a rush of disappointment and anger when she saw just how little amount of alcohol Beca had brought.

" _That’s_ all you brought? What is that going to do for me? I want to get fucking obliterated, Beca, I don’t want a nightcap before bed! What fucking good are you?"

And then Beca’s fear turned to anger. She opened the bottle and drank the remainder, and she felt a small hit of relief as bourbon burned the back of her throat. She hadn’t had a drink in over two weeks. She’d been proud of herself for that.

Chloe’s rush of anger was replaced by shock and then more disappointment. She rushed forward to try and grab the bottle so she could at least get something, but Beca pulled away, the last drops spilling down her chin and onto her shirt.

Chloe wanted to scream. She pushed down every urge to shout and rage, and ended up fisting her own hair, pulling it tightly.

"You know," Beca said, eyes shining with anger and pain, "bars exist right? And stores? You need a drink, go fucking buy one. You called me for a reason." Beca wiped away the angry tears that were now spilling down her cheeks. "You called me, because you thought I’d… I’d be an enabler, or something. And I understand, Chloe, believe me. I’m not going to judge you for relapsing, okay? But don’t ask me to be the person to push you off the wagon. I love you too much for that."

And then Beca was slamming the door behind her. Chloe heard the sound of glass shattering as Beca hurled the empty bottle at the ground.

And suddenly, Chloe realised what she’d just done.

She flung the door open and ran after Beca.

"Wait!" She called out to the small figure, walking quickly down the street. "Beca! Wait!"

"Go home, Chloe," Beca said, not slowing down.

"Beca, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry," Chloe said, crying now. "Please, baby, let me explain."

Beca slowed her steps and turned around. "I really don’t want to talk to you right now," she said, walking slowly backwards.

"I know," Chloe said. "I know that. I’m just… fuck, Beca, I’m so sorry."

Beca stopped walking, but didn’t go to Chloe. Her hands were stuffed in her pockets, and she was crying hard.

"Something… Something bad happened at Support Line. I just… Something inside me snapped, and all I could think about was making it stop."

"Making what stop?" Beca asked. The sight of Chloe crumbling before her like this was making her resolve weaken, but she wasn’t ready to run into her arms. Not yet.

" _Everything_ ," Chloe breathed out. "I needed everything to _stop_. I need to just… To not exist. To not think. That’s why I used to drink, because I needed that… That oblivion. I needed that tonight. I need it _now._ "

Beca teetered on her feet slightly. Fighting the urge to move forward.

"That doesn’t make what you did okay," Beca said.

"No, I know that. You shouldn’t ever let me speak to you like that. You shouldn’t let _anyone_ speak to you like that. If… If you don’t want to… to be with me anymore after this, I’ll understand. I won’t _like_ it, but I’ll understand," Chloe said, feeling the rush of guilt and regret overtake her.

"That isn’t what I want," Beca said, her voice small again, her anger beginning to dissipate. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, unsure of what to do. "Did you mean what you said?"

"No," Chloe said, shaking her head desperately. "No, of course I didn’t."

"Why _did_ you call me?"

"I called you because… Because I thought you wouldn’t fight me. I thought you’d just… I thought you’d give me permission. It was wrong of me to ask you to do that," Chloe said.

Beca shook her head and ran her hand through her hair. "I guess if you’re gonna drink, I’d rather you do it safely, with someone you know and trust. I meant what I said about not judging you for relapsing. It’s just… If you’d talked to me first…" Beca shook her head again. "I shouldn’t have left, not when I knew you were in a bad way. I’m sorry."

" _You’re_ sorry?" Chloe said. Beca bit her lip and nodded. Chloe closed the gap between them and pulled Beca into her arms. She felt relief when Beca raised her arms to hug her back. "No, baby. You don’t apologise for this. I’m in the wrong here, okay? I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I shouldn’t have _used_ you like that."

"I’m sorry I left," Beca said, sobbing into Chloe’s chest. "I promised I wouldn’t leave, I shouldn’t have left."

Chloe held Beca at arms length so she could look at her face. "You’re allowed to leave if I’m hurting you, Beca. You _should_ leave if I’m hurting you."

Beca nodded, still crying.

"I love you, Chloe," Beca said, her voice quiet and trembling. "I don’t want this to end."

"It isn’t ending," Chloe said, closing her eyes as she pulled Beca back into a hug. "I love you too. So much. Come home with me?"

She felt Beca nod against her, and they walked hand in hand back to Chloe’s house.


	20. Chapter 20

Chloe made them both a cup of tea, and they sat in the kitchen as she told Beca about the call she’d received.

"Jesus," Beca said, once Chloe had finished. "Are you okay?"

Chloe nodded. "I’m really sorry, Beca. You know that, right? I won’t ever… I’ll _try_ not to ever speak to you like that again. It was wrong."

"I know," Beca said, looking down at her tea. "I’m… It’s not okay, the way you spoke to me. But I forgive you. Just… talk to me next time. If you need to drink, I’ll be there to make sure you’re okay, but I don’t… When people are mad at me… if they yell at me… I don’t respond well to that."

Chloe knew Beca was struggling to explain herself, so she just reached across the kitchen table and squeezed her hand.

"I’m gonna call Stacie’s office tomorrow, see if I can get an earlier appointment," Chloe said. "Beca, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you should speak to her too."

"Me?"

"Not at the same time as me," Chloe said. "I’m not talking about couple’s counselling or anything, but… Baby, I yelled at you and… I was mean to you, and you apologised to me. When people treat you badly, your first reaction shouldn’t be to apologise."

Beca shrugged. "You were hurting."

"And so were you," Chloe said. "I just think you should maybe talk to someone who isn’t me about this. It’s up to you though."

"I can’t afford a therapist, Chloe," Beca said, shifting uncomfortably on her seat.

"I’m not saying you should get a therapist," Chloe said. "Not that that isn’t a good idea. I think everyone should have a therapist," she added with a laugh. "I just think you should have a chat with her. I can ask her to just… add it onto my session. Just as a one off. She’s really good, Beca. She’s nice. And if this is something you want to carry on doing, she’s super flexible with how much she charges."

"Can I think about it?" Beca asked, still looking skeptical. She had folded her arms on the table and was resting her head on them. She looked exhausted. Chloe remembered with a pang of guilt that she had woken Beca up at 12:30 am, and that Beca had come over immediately. It was now almost 4 am.

"Yeah, of course," Chloe said. "Do you wanna go to bed?"

Beca nodded, but didn’t make any effort to move.

"Does your dad know you’re here?" Chloe asked, moving off her chair to load the empty cups into the dishwasher.

"Left a note," Beca mumbled.

Chloe returned to the kitchen table and brushed the hair out of Beca’s face.

"Come on," she said.

Beca pulled herself to her feet and followed Chloe up the stairs.

Beca sat on the edge of the bed and, without warning, started crying again,

"Hey," Chloe said, softly. "What is it?"

"I dunno," Beca said. "I’m just… I’m just tired and…" She struggled to catch her breath. "Just thinking about the last time I was here, and how happy I was and how close I came to losing that."

"You didn’t nearly lose me, baby. I nearly lost you," Chloe said.

"It doesn’t matter, the end result is still the same," Beca said.

"It matters," Chloe said. "What happened was my fault. Don’t blame yourself for any of this, okay?"

Beca nodded, but she was still upset.

"Come on, you’re exhausted," Chloe said, helping Beca change for bed. "We’ll both feel better once we’ve slept."

"Do you still need to drink?" Beca asked, wiping her eyes.

"Kinda," Chloe said. "I still… I really want one, I’m not gonna lie. But if you offered me one, I don’t know if I’d drink it. I think I just need this day to be over."

Beca nodded. "Let’s sleep then," she said.

They crawled into bed together, and fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

As she drifted off, Chloe felt a rush of gratitude that, despite what she’d done, Beca was currently holding her, absentmindedly running a hand through her hair. She was still there. Still comforting her.

"I love you," Chloe mumbled, pressing her lips against Beca’s shoulder.

"Love you too," Beca replied.

**_"You’ve been real kind miss."_ **

**_Chloe blinked and tried to make sense of her surroundings. She was in a barn. Wind was whistling through the door, which was banging violently open and shut._ **

**_It was dark but she could make out the figure of a man standing in front of her._ **

**_"I really appreciate you talking to me. Not judging me or nothin’," he said._ **

**_Chloe tried to speak but found she couldn’t. She tried to scream and shout, but her voice was trapped in her throat._ **

**_"It’s a shame I didn’t speak to you before I done those awful things."_ **

**_And Chloe looked down and saw them. The bodies. Dozens of them. All little girls. All dead._ **

**_"Still, my daddy always said, no use crying over spilled milk," he said, cheerfully. "You get a lot of spilled milk on a farm, miss."_ **

**_Chloe tried to move, but she was stuck. She was sinking. And suddenly the little girls weren’t dead anymore. They weren’t little girls anymore either. They were pulling her down. Biting, clawing, screaming._ **

**_"I’m glad it was you who heard my last words," he said, aiming his gun. "Now you gotta carry that secret. Now it’s gonna pull you down instead of me."_ **

**_And then suddenly he was right beside her, whispering in her ear._ **

**_"Thank you for listening, Chloe."_ **

Chloe sat bolt upright in bed. Her heart was racing and cold sweat was running down her back.

"Chloe?" Beca mumbled, still half asleep.

Chloe hurried out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. She ran the cold tap and began splashing water on her face, her hands shaking badly.

 _He didn’t know my name_ , she told herself, hands clutching the sides of the sink. _He hadn’t hurt anyone. He told me he hadn’t hurt anyone._

_It was just a dream._

She jumped when she felt Beca’s hand on her back.

"Sorry," Beca said, stepping away. "Are you okay?"

"Bad dream," Chloe muttered, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Was it about the call?"

Chloe nodded. She opened her eyes and looked at Beca. She looked pale and exhausted. Her eyes were still red from crying. Chloe felt another rush of guilt.

"What time is it?" Chloe asked.

"Dunno," Beca said, her voice raspy. "Early."

The sun had started to rise, casting the room in a pale blue light.

Chloe felt wired and jittery, like she’d drank ten cups of coffee, even though she hadn’t had caffeine for a week.

She wanted to sleep but didn’t know if she could. She didn’t know if she’d be able to stay awake either.

She felt the way she used to feel when she was having a bad day. Like in those first few months after her suicide attempt, where she’d be too tired to do anything but too wired to sleep. She hated that limbo.

"Come back to bed," Beca said.

Chloe wanted to, but she felt stuck.

Beca tugged her hand and lead her back into the bedroom. "Talk to me," she said, curling up beside her in bed.

"Baby you’re exhausted," Chloe said. "Go back to sleep."

Beca shook her head. "Talk to me."

"About what?" Chloe huffed.

"Anything," Beca said. "Tell me your funniest college story."

"I don’t… I can’t remember," Chloe said, sounding frustrated. "My brain isn’t working like that right now."

Beca sighed. "I’m sorry," she said. "Can you think of any story you can tell me? Even if isn’t interesting or significant."

"No," Chloe said, her voice cracking. "All I can think about is that guy and the sound of his gun going off."

"Okay," Beca said. "Then listen. And pay attention, you’ll be getting a quiz on this later." She cleared her throat, and thought for a minute. "So, my favourite episode of the Simpsons is a Halloween one. In fact I think it might be like the first ever Halloween episode, which happened in season two. You’d think that the Halloween episodes are such a staple that they started in the first season, but no, season two is when the first one was. So, Bart and Lisa are in Bart’s treehouse, telling scary stories…"

And Beca spent the next 20 minutes explaining her favourite episode of the Simpsons in such excruciating detail, that Chloe had started to laugh halfway through.

When Beca was reaching the final act, Chloe felt herself getting tired again. She was trying hard to listen to what Beca was saying, because was whatever it was she was doing was working. She was so focused on listening to Beca, that she let the other stuff just slip away.

She was trying to focus on her voice, but Beca’s hand was now running slowly up and down her back. She kept feeling her eyes drift shut, but forced them open again. She didn’t want another nightmare.

"Go to sleep, Chlo’," Beca said.

Chloe couldn’t have refused if she wanted to. As soon as the words left Beca’s mouth, she let her eyes close and finally fell asleep.


	21. Chapter 21

"So," Stacie said, adjusting her position on her chair, trying to get comfortable. "Beca." She tapped her pen against her notebook, trying to get a measure of the girl sat in front of her.

Beca looked apprehensive, and seemed to have a hard time maintaining eye contact. She was fidgeting and kept alternating between tapping on her thighs and pulling at her sleeves.

"How come you’re here, Beca?" Stacie asked.

"Didn’t Chloe tell you?" Beca responded, still not looking at her.

"I can’t really tell you what we talked about," Stacie said. "And anyway, I’d like to hear it from you."

"Um… I guess we kinda had a fight?" Beca said, frowning. "I think she thinks I gave in to easily or something."

"So why are you here?"

"Because she asked me to speak to you," Beca said. "She thought it was a good idea."

"Do you think it was a good idea?" Stacie asked.

Beca let out a huff of frustration. "I don’t know," she said. "I’m sorry. I think I might be wasting your time."

"You’re not wasting my time, Beca," Stacie said. "This is literally what I get paid for."

"Yeah but, there are other people. People who might actually need your help. Like Chloe, she cut her session short for this, right?" Beca asked. "Don’t you think she needs this more than I do?"

"I don’t know," Stacie said. "I don’t really know anything about you, other than what Chloe’s told me. But it isn’t a contest, Beca. None of my clients deserve their time with me more than the others do. And Chloe’s a smart girl. She’s very aware of her mental health, and she obviously feels like she can handle a shorter session today."

"Do you think she can?" Beca asked, making sustained eye contact for the first time.

"I can’t tell you that," Stacie said, smiling. "But if I thought she was any kind of risk to herself right now, do you think I’d have agreed?"

"I guess not," Beca said, feeling relieved.

"So, this fight," Stacie said. "Chloe said she was pretty unpleasant to you."

Beca shrugged. "She was hurting," she said. "She’d had a really bad call and she just kinda lashed out."

"And you think that’s okay?"

"No," Beca sighed. "I know it’s not okay, but what am I supposed to do about it? I don’t want to break up with her, or… or punish her for it. She said sorry, and she meant it, and I forgave her. It’s done. Couples fight. Does she," Beca cleared her throat, feeling tears sting her eyes, "does she _want_ me to punish her?"

"Beca," Stacie said, her voice a little softer, "I don’t think Chloe is upset that you forgave her. I think… I know, she feels really grateful at how understanding you were." Stacie sighed slightly, trying to think of a way to phrase this. "I’m not supposed to talk to you, or anyone else, about the things that Chloe and I talk about. And I’m not going to. The same way that I’m not going to tell her about anything that we talk about. But… But I think what worried Chloe, is that you-"

"-Apologised," Beca said, cutting her off. "I know, she told me that it worried her. But I couldn’t not say sorry. I left. She was in a bad way. She wanted to drink, she could have done _anything_ to herself and I _left_." Beca’s voice broke on the last word. "What if she’d hurt herself? What if she’d done something?"

"When someone hurts you, Beca, you’re allowed to leave the situation," Stacie said. "You shouldn’t apologise for taking care of yourself." Stacie tapped her pen against her notebook again, thinking. "You’ve got really low self-esteem, I get it. But you need to understand that you aren’t underserving of help. You deserve to have good things happen to you, and you deserve to be treated well. You shouldn’t allow yourself to be hurt because you think you don’t matter. You _do_ matter."

"Chloe… Chloe makes me feel like I do," Beca said. "She makes me feel _good_. She’s the only person who’s ever made me feel that. I didn’t want to lose her."

"Of course she makes you feel good, you’re in love. Both of you. Love is just your brain releasing dopamine into your body, along with some other chemicals. And dopamine makes you feel _really_ good," Stacie said, with a laugh.

"You make it sound so un-romantic," Beca said, smiling for the first time since she got there.

"It’s kinda cool though, don’t you think? That another person can trigger your body to react in a certain way? It’s like your brain is Marie Kondo, and when you interact with her, or even just think about her, its like ‘yes, this one sparks joy’."

"Oh my god," Beca said, laughing hard. "She literally does spark joy."

Once they’d stopped laughing, Stacie spoke again. "You said before that you were scared of losing her. But you shouldn’t give someone permission to mistreat you because you’re scared of being without them. If the person you’re with really loves you, they’ll understand when you need to take care of yourself. And Chloe really loves you. She’s a good person, I don’t think she’ll mistreat you. But you know what she’s been through. She might lash out, she might say hurtful things. But her having a difficult past doesn’t give her permission to do that. You don’t have to sit there and take it, you can walk away if you need to."

"What if Aubrey had walked away?" Beca said. "Chloe told me she was horrible to her, but Aubrey stuck around. If Aubrey hadn’t, Chloe would have died."

Stacie sighed again. "I know both Aubrey and Chloe really well. I was friends with Aubrey at that time in their lives, and Aubrey walked away a lot, Beca. She would walk away, take some time for herself, and then she'd come back. She never apologised for leaving, and she never told Chloe that the way she was treating her was okay. Aubrey doesn’t take bullshit, and Chloe needs people to be firm with her," Stacie said, desperate for Beca to listen to her and to understand. "Look, I’m not saying you should cut Chloe out of your life the next time she snaps at you. I’m saying, you should do what you need to do. Take a step back when you need it. Give yourself a few hours or a few days, or however much you need. And think about what _you_ need before you go back."

"I just… I’ve never been in this situation before," Beca said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I’ve never been in love, and I’ve never had someone care about me the way Chloe does. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, I don’t know what you want me to say."

"I don’t want you to say anything," Stacie said. "I just want you to hear me. Hear what I’m saying, and understand it. I’m not a relationship counsellor. I’m not here to make sure that yours and Chloe’s relationship works. I’m here to help you look after your mental health, the same way I help Chloe look after hers. So I just want you to have heard the things I’ve said to today."

Beca nodded, like she had finally understood.

"I’m not here to break you guys up," Stacie added. "I think you’re super cute together, and you definitely make Chloe happy. I don’t really know you though, Beca. I don’t know if she makes you happy, and I don’t know if she’s good for you or not. All I know about you, is what I’ve learned today. And what I’ve learned is that you’re a girl with very low self-esteem and self-worth, who just wants to be loved."

And, suddenly, Beca felt seen. She got that drop in her stomach that she usually associated with rollercoasters. She felt like Stacie had just laid her bare.

She didn’t speak for a few minutes, and Stacie gave her the silence to help her gather her thoughts.

"Are you taking on clients right now?" Beca asked eventually.

"I think I can squeeze you in," Stacie said, surprised but pleased.

"How much do you charge?" Beca asked, her voice quieter, laced with embarrassment.

"Speak to Jessica on your way out, we can arrange something that works for you."

"Thanks," Beca said. "Thank you for… all of that." She stood up and shook Stacie’s hand. "Chloe is good for me, though," Beca said. "She… She sees me. She understands me. She makes me feel like I’m worth something. She’s…" Beca shook her head. "I can’t even describe her."

"I know," Stacie said, smiling. "I know her very well."

When Beca left Stacie’s office, and after she’d spoken to Jessica about making regular appointments, she found Chloe sitting in the waiting room, talking to someone on the phone. When her eyes met Beca’s, her face lit up, and Beca couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her own face.

"Oh, I gotta go ‘Bree," Chloe said into the phone. "See you tomorrow. Bye."

As soon as Chloe moved the phone away from her face, Beca kissed her.

"Hi," she said, smiling.

"Hi," Chloe responded. "How did that go?"

"Good," Beca said, "she’s good. I’m gonna see her again, I think."

"Beca!" Chloe squealed, squeezing her into a hug. "I’m so proud of you!"

"Thanks," Beca said, laughing.

Chloe cupped Beca’s face in her hands. "I love you, you know?"

"I love you too," Beca replied.


	22. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! This is the final chapter of this fic.
> 
> I'm really proud of this fic, and I want to thank everyone who's commented. 
> 
> I think this might be my last big fic for the foreseeable future, but I'm really glad to have gone out on this one. A much as I loved writing it, it was a lot of work and a lot of late nights, and a lot of doubting myself, and it hasn't gotten a very big response. I know we shouldn't write for the validation, but I really need that validation haha.
> 
> I'm not quitting writing fanfic all together - I honestly don't think I could do that - but I'm probably going to just be writing one-shot kinda things from now on and posting them on Tumblr. I might post them on here, but I don't have plans to do that at the moment. Feel free to send me prompts, my username is Massivedrickhead.
> 
> I'm also part of the Pitch Perfect Fandom Drive which I really recommend you check out if you haven't already. Here's the link to that: https://ppfandomdrive.tumblr.com.
> 
> Anyway, here's the epilogue, I hope you like it 💜

_One year later._

"Babe?" Beca called, carrying her laptop and headphones into the living room.

"Hmm?" Chloe responded, not looking up from the piles of paper that were cluttering the coffee table. She was chewing on the end of a pen as she rifled through the multitude of revision notes in front of her. A huge stack of veterinary books was occupying the side of the sofa that was usually reserved for Beca.

"Never mind," Beca said with a laugh. "I can come back later."

"No, what is it?" Chloe said, tearing her eyes away from her school work.

"Are you sure? I don’t wanna interrupt your flow," Beca said.

"You got something for me?" Chloe said, her voice brighter as she saw the laptop in Beca’s hands.

"Uh yeah, I think this sucks, can you give it a listen?" Beca asked, looking for a place to put her laptop.

"Try again," Chloe said, clearing away some of the papers.

"Sorry," Beca said. "I think this might be something good? Can you listen to it?"

"That’s better," Chloe said, smiling. She held out her hands for the headphones, and Beca handed them over.

Chloe listened, and her smile grew wider with each second. "Is this your voice?" She asked, practically shouting as she pointed at the headphones.

"Yeah," Beca said, feeling that familiar rush of embarrassment she always got these days when anyone heard her sing. "Theo said he wanted more of it in my stuff."

"Theo’s smart," Chloe said. "You should listen to Theo."

"So?" Beca asked, as the song ended, and Chloe pulled off the headphones.

"Baby, it’s amazing. But you know that, right? You don’t need me to tell you that that’s amazing," Chloe said.

"Of course I do," Beca said, letting out a small laugh of relief. "Your opinion matters to me more than anyone’s."

Chloe shook her head, but smiled. "It’s brilliant. You’re brilliant."

Beca grinned. "I love you," she said. "How’s revision going?"

"Not… terrible," Chloe said, looking back down at her mess of papers. "There’s this one topic I can’t find." She sighed, sitting back on the sofa. "I need to organise my shit."

"Are you hungry?" Beca asked.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "What time is it?"

"Like 1 pm," Beca said. "I’ll go make us some lunch, you start organising. I can give you hand after we’ve eaten."

"You don’t have to," Chloe said, smiling.

"Your test is in a few days," Beca said. "I’m not letting my girlfriend flunk out of veterinary school because she couldn’t keep her notes organised."

Chloe rolled her eyes but grinned anyway.

"Be back in five," Beca said, kissing the top of Chloe’s head.

She walked into their kitchen, and started preparing some sandwiches, grinning when she heard Chloe’s triumphant shout of "Ah ha! Found you!"

Moving in with Chloe had been a big step, but it felt right, and Beca hadn’t regretted it for a second.

They had stayed in Barden, because that’s where Chloe’s support system was, and she wasn’t ready to be without them yet.

Beca still wasn’t in love with her home town, she’d had a few unpleasant run-ins with her mom, but she didn’t find the town quite so claustrophobic anymore.

Her new job as a junior producer at ATL Records kept her busy, and it meant she got to escape Barden to the nearby bigger city every day.

Coming home to Chloe every day made it even better.

It wasn’t always plain sailing. They both still had bad days.

Chloe found that Beca would spiral if she ever got negative feedback at work, or if she ever had any kind of creative block. She would start doubting her talent, and would close in on herself. Becoming uncommunicative and frustrated. Some days she still found it hard getting out of bed.

On those occasions, Chloe would take them for a drive to Barden lake and they would go for a walk along the hiking trail. Chloe would remind Beca of how talented she was, and how loved she was. She’d remind Beca that she wasn’t a failure. That she’d _never_ been a failure.

Chloe still got her bad days too. Beca knew what her triggers were, and she knew how to talk Chloe down from a panic attack.

If Chloe was craving a drink, or if she’d had a bad call at Support Line, she knew how to distract her. She knew how to keep Chloe out of her own head.

And she knew how to walk away when she needed to. It was rare that she needed to, but she knew it was an option. She would go for a walk around the neighbourhood, or drive to pick them up some dinner, and when she got back she’d let Chloe apologise, and they’d carry on with their day.

They still had their bad days, but those days were becoming less and less frequent.

They both still saw Stacie regularly, and Chloe was still on medication.

They were both still sober. It had been just over a year for Beca, and four years for Chloe.

Beca carried their lunch into the living room, smiling at the sight of Chloe hunched over her revision again, her bottom lip held between her teeth, a groove between her eyebrows she only got when she was really concentrating.

"Quit staring," Chloe said, trying not to smile.

"Quit looking so cute," Beca said.

Chloe laughed, and accepted the plate of food Beca was handing her.

"The song," Beca asked, biting her lip as she sat down beside Chloe, "did you really like it?"

Chloe smiled and nodded. "It was brilliant."

It astounded her that Beca couldn’t see her talent the way that Chloe saw it. The way that _everyone_ saw it.

She would tell her a thousand times a day, if she had to.

"Do you not think it was too lo-"

She was cut off by Chloe throwing a potato chip at her head.

"… Okay…"

"Sorry, what were you gonna say?" Chloe asked, innocently.

"The song," Beca said, warily. "It’s too-"

Chloe threw another chip.

"Too good? I agree, it’s _too_ good. You’re gonna make all the other artists mad when you win every Grammy," Chloe said, holding a third chip in her hand. "Did you have something you wanted to add? Anything else to say about the song?"

Beca smiled and shook her head.

"Thought so," Chloe said, smiling as she popped the chip into her mouth.

"You’re such a weirdo," Beca said, laughing.

"Correction," Chloe said. "I’m _your_ weirdo."

Beca laughed. "You’re my…" She trailed off and shook her head.

"Your what?"

"I was gonna say something lame."

"That’s never stopped you before," Chloe said.

"Wow. Rude."

"Tell me or I start throwing chips again."

"You’re my _everything_ , Chloe. You’re my rock. My guiding light," Beca said.

Chloe was quiet for a minute while she watched Beca. Beca would do this sometimes. Say these wonderfully beautiful things to her, as if Chloe should already know them. As if it was obvious.

"I’m using up the speech I wrote for when I propose," Beca said, returning to her sandwich. "Try and act surprised the next time I say it."

"What makes you think you get to propose?" Chloe asked.

"If you propose to me, I’ll just propose louder," Beca said.

"You think you can out propose me?"

"I _know_ I can."

"Oh, it’s on," Chloe said, wondering if she was supposed to feel scared. Or freaked out.

She thought about the ring she had stashed in their spare room, and she just felt relief. Relief in knowing that Beca would say yes. Relief in knowing that she wasn’t scared.

Loving Beca was the easiest thing she’d ever done.

**The End.**


End file.
